


Catharsis

by sepia_cigarettes



Series: Therapy [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Arranged Marriage, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-11 09:37:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 50,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13521510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sepia_cigarettes/pseuds/sepia_cigarettes
Summary: The return of Naruto and Sasuke to Konoha brings with it renewed fear of the jinchūriki. What kind of power could enable one person to be solely responsible for the fall of the Akatsuki? What kind of wrongs could occur if this power is unhinged? Something must be done. A council is held; a decision is made. To foster peace and trust, each jinchūriki is given a Minder.Naruto is given Sasuke.Gaara is given Rock Lee.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I just really wanted to write a semi-arranged marriage fic  
> 2\. Shukaku is still present  
> 3\. Lee is very much the overenthusiastic ninja, I just can't stand excessive exclamation marks.

The day Uzumaki Naruto arrives in Konohagakure, bloodied from battle, Uchiha Sasuke on his arm, and the confession of the fall of the Akatsuki thanks to his bijū, is a day everyone remembers well.

The Kages descend upon The Leaf to deliberate. Uchiha must pay for his crimes. Uzumaki must be held accountable for the devastating use of his bijū. No one mentions the other jinchūriki amongst them in the council chamber, but the reality of it hangs in the air, growing stagnant.

Debates are held; opinions are voiced; an agreement is met. Each jinchūriki must be sealed with a Minder. Criteria for the Minder are as follows: total devotion to their Village, equally matched in combat with their jinchūriki, and a close enough bond that their death as punishment is devastating enough to prevent the jinchūriki from betraying their Village in the first place. There are several tasks to be fulfilled, the most prominent being shared accommodation.

Arguments of jinchūriki not being capable of love for another is shot down, by the Kazekage himself. The jinchūriki will comply, he assures. Peace and trust will be fostered. It is to protect the shinobi world. There is no other choice.


	2. Orientation

The air in the Land of Fire was cool and damp in comparison to the dry heat that encompassed the Land of Wind. The landscape too, differed from the pale sands of Sunagakure and was an over-exuberant green that Gaara decided blended well with its ninja, their jōnin jackets almost one with the surroundings.

There was only him, journeying to his neighbor Village in order to learn who his Minder was. At the summit, he had been shut out of the proceedings that decided who would be sealed to the jinchūriki, but his summoning to the Leaf had not been surprising. He had very few people in Suna that would have satisfied the requirements at being his Minder; if anything, Naruto would have been the perfect candidate, but Gaara knew it was not a possibility. Besides, the blond had Sasuke. _That_ was a given before any decisions had even been made.

Up ahead was Konoha, the Hidden Village of the Leaf standing amongst the land with its symbol projected at the top of its gates. He was unconcerned at the lack of diplomatic flair he had employed in his arrival, but the Junoesque Fifth Hokage minded.

She said as much as she welcomed him to the compound in which he would stay for the length of his trip. “It does not bode well with the other Kage if you are not seen to be doing the right thing.”

“I _am_ doing the right thing already,” Gaara argued. “I said the jinchūriki would comply, and we are.”

Lady Tsunade’s eyes softened with a sort of pity. “I realize that, but in a time as fragile as this, you need to be extra vigilant, and then neither of us will have our shinobi being used as pincushions for the other Villages’ kunai.”

Gaara didn't scowl, no matter how much he wanted to. Instead he said, “Well then, I suppose now is a good time to ask who have you charged with the task of keeping me?”

Lady Tsunade’s eyes softened even further, which couldn’t be good. “Count your lucky stars that you didn’t get someone ancient.” At Gaara’s raised brow, she said, “It’s Rock Lee.”

  

 

Gaara liked Rock Lee.

The last time he had seen the taijutsu virtuoso was when he and his siblings had returned to complete the final stage of their chūnin exams in order for Temari and Kankurō to advance onto jōnin level. It had been a tense week, but Lee had been congenial, and it had alleviated some of the stress, which was a stark difference to their first encounters when Gaara had tried to kill him.

Because of this, Gaara made no other comment than a snide remark on how the raven’s selection was a positive aspect amongst a sea of negativity, and Lady Tsunade left with a satisfied smile, informing him that Rock Lee would present himself within the next hour.

 _So soon?_ Gaara had wanted to say. Gods, he wasn’t _nervous_.

His sister visited straight after the Fifth Hokage left, blonde hair still as spiky as her personality as she swept into the villa and set her fan down next to the front entrance.

“Temari,” Gaara greeted, forgoing the formalities and addressing her as a brother.

“Hey, brat,” Temari smirked.

She went straight towards the bar and rifled around in the freshly-stocked cupboards as Gaara sat down on one of the stools and appraised her. Eventually she found chocolate, and some further rummaging in the bar fridge produced a tub of ice cream.

“How’s Suna?” Temari said as she scooped ice cream into bowls. “I’m sorry I haven’t visited in a while; tensions between villages are pretty high right now.”

“That’s to be expected,” Gaara said.

He spied an oddly-shaped bruise on the side of her neck and frowned. His sister was more than capable of taking care of herself, but the mark made a red flag go up in his head. Domestic violence was not something to be taken lightly.

“How are you?” he said carefully. “Is Shikamaru…are you both well?”

“Shika?” Temari’s brow knitted together in confusion. “Yes, we’re both quite well. Why do you ask?”

Gaara decided to be forthright and pointed at his own neck. “He’s not hurting you, is he?”

“Oh!” Temari said, flushing as she grabbed at her own neck. “Oh, Gaara, _no_.” She quickly righted herself, fingers gripping the knife in her hands a little more securely as she resumed slicing the chocolate block. “No, Gaara, that’s not—he’s not—we’re absolutely _fine_. He’s not hurting me, I promise.”

“Are you sure?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Temari said, rather hotly, and she backed it up with a tone that indicated that topic of conversation had expired. She segued into another avenue with, “What about you, Gaara? Is Kankurō gracing us with his presence, or is he back home?”

“He’s home,” Gaara said apologetically. “He was tied up in some business.”

Temari’s blush returned, but this time it was an angry flare, “Idiot. Hasn’t seen his sister in over nine months and his own younger brother has the decency to take time out of being _Kazekage_ to visit but he simply can’t because he has to deal with _business_.”

“I am also here on business,” Gaara reminded her, and she waved her knife at him.

“You’re still here. Where are your bodyguards, hm? I only saw Konoha shinobi guarding your house.”

“I didn’t bring any.”

Temari gave him a disproving look. “That was foolish of you, wasn’t it? It’s too dangerous to be wandering around on your own.”

“Dangerous to whom?” Gaara said. “Me, or everyone else? Honestly, I think I’ve done more than enough repenting for people to trust me.”

“Yeah, and then your friend fucked it up and gave your kind life sentences.”

“I don’t need a lecture from you as well,” Gaara groused, miffed at her use of ‘your kind’. “Lady Tsunade already gave me one when I arrived.”

Temari’s brow arched at him. “It’s nice to know I’m not alone then. I’ll send for your Suna guards.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“It _is_ , thank you very much. Besides, they’ll know how to protect your villa much better.”

“They’ll make it a prison. Why do you think I left them in Suna?”

“You realize that the entire world wants you under lock and key and constant surveillance until this shitstorm has passed and you’ve got a Minder, right?” When Gaara didn’t answer, she shook her head. “Honestly, your friend Uzumaki was a fool. He’s to blame for this.”

Gaara bristled at that. Naruto was his closest friend and had trusted him when he had been at rock bottom. “I will not condemn him for saving Sasuke.”

“How can you not? He killed an entire criminal organization with his bijū and now everyone is living in fear until the jinchūriki are shown to be more than murdering machines.”

Gaara wrinkled his nose. “Yes, because hating everyone got me so far in life before.”

“No,” Temari agreed, irked. “Anyway, do tell me because I’ve been _dying_ to know. Who was chosen as your Minder?”

Gaara swallowed. He hadn’t been given enough time to digest the information himself, let alone talk about it. “Rock Lee.”

“Bushy Brows Lee?” Temari said, sweeping the chocolate shavings into the bowls of ice cream. “That isn’t too bad, is it?”

Gaara contemplated the curious shyness he felt at her words. “He’s fulfils the criteria, yes.”

Temari waggled her own brows at him. “I suppose there are far worse people to be married to.”

“We are getting _sealed_ , not married.”

“Call it what you will,” Temari shrugged. “It might as well be a marriage. You’re being bonded in a ceremony, you wear seals over your hearts, you have to live together. Sounds _suspiciously_ like a marriage.”

Gaara dug his spoon into his ice cream, too unsettled to argue with her.

They ate their dessert in silence, and Gaara pondered her words, a strange feeling of intrigue stealing over him as he thought of the Leaf ninja. He had not seen Lee in a while; it would be at least two years, now. Last time Gaara had seen Lee, the ninja had still been growing into his body, all wiry arms and legs done up in that ridiculous green jumpsuit and lurid orange legwarmers and tight bandages, and there had been the fleeting thought about what the ninja’s skin looked like beyond his garish clothing. As tanned as his face and fingers? Or pale, like the underside of one’s feet and hands?

“Speaking of your Minder,” Temari muttered, and Gaara turned to face the entrance as Rock Lee materialized at the open doorway.

He was tall, taller than last time, Gaara noted firstly. He still wore the jumpsuit, but it was now tight over smooth muscles, and the jōnin jacket rested on wide shoulders. He sported the same bowl-cut, and the orange legwarmers, with the Leaf _hitai-ate_ tied around his waist.

“Kazekage-sama!” the Leaf ninja bowed respectfully, and Gaara recognized the timbre of that voice, even if it was a little less scratchy.

The enthusiasm had not waned a bit.

“Rock Lee,” he greeted, finding the raven’s mood infectious, and he beckoned to the bar stool next to him. “You look well.”

Rock Lee, having noted the informal tone of Gaara’s reception of him, beamed widely. “As do you! Hello, Lady Temari.” He sat in the offered stool as Temari welcomed him in turn, before saying, “I was informed of our upcoming sealing yesterday morning. Regretfully, it was too soon for me to tell you by post.”

“At least you were given more time than me,” Gaara remarked. “I only learnt half an hour ago when I arrived.”

Lee was oblivious to the unimpressed undertone. “Then I hope you are pleased. I am most honored to be your Minder!”

“Really?” Gaara said in a distasteful tone to quash the churning of his stomach. “Your generosity is appreciated, Lee, but I’m sorry that we are being forced together.”

“I am still honored, regardless!” Lee said. “Besides, the ‘forced together’ matter is easily avoided. Lady Tsunade said I would not have to be your constant companion to satisfy our seal arrangements. ‘A shadow’, she said, if you wished.”

Gaara frowned. “This seal concerns both of us, not just me. We need to work together, Lee.”

Lee didn’t seem satisfied with that answer, but Temari swooped in to prevent a disagreement by enquiring about the wellbeing of Lee’s teacher, Might Guy.

From the corner of his eye, Gaara watched the shinobi share polite conversation with his sister and pondered on Lee’s features, recommitting his face to memory. Lee’s jaw was more prominent, and his eyebrows were still larger than most, but it seemed that he had grown into them. His eyes remained the same, large and open and curious.

The setting sun heralded dinner on the terrace of the dining room, so the three of them ate under the stars in the cool Konoha evening, and then Temari bade Gaara and Lee goodnight with a promise to check in before their sealing ceremony.

Gaara scoffed at his sister’s concerns for him, but Temari’s sensitivities were different to his own, so he nodded and sent her on her way, wondering what he was meant to do with Rock Lee. The ninja would want to sleep, surely, but Gaara was nocturnal, and he didn’t fancy spending his first night in Konoha holed up in his room blinking at the ceiling.

He was about to question where the raven was to sleep when Rock Lee announced his intentions to stay up with him, adding, “I took a nap, this morning, if it concerns you that much, Gaara-sama.”

“It does concern me,” Gaara answered, remembering portions of the last night Rock Lee had waited up with him.

He did not bother to ask how the raven intended to wait up for the length of his stay—and indeed, the rest of their lives, which he tried not to think too hard about—deciding that Rock Lee would probably be the diligent idiot that he tended to be and would forgo sleep altogether until he eventually passed out from exhaustion.

At a dead end, Gaara directed the night’s activities down a more familiar path, saying, “Do you remember the last time you waited up with me? You were late for training because you fell asleep and you had to run around the Village eight hundred times before you felt better.”

Two years ago, Gaara had sat on Hokage Mountain and watched the stars, had listened to Lee talk about his childhood, and had reveled in the idea of another friend. He had told Lee about his desire to become Kazekage, and Lee’s sentences had been jammed full of vows and promises. They still were, come to think of it.

The raven shook his head, emphatic. “It is not a problem, Gaara-sama. I insist!”

“Not a problem for you, perhaps,” Gaara agreed. “But it is for me.”

“I am to be your constant companion and shadow,” Lee said. “Please help me.”

Gaara huffed. “Fine.”

They went up to the roof of the complex, Gaara scowling at the guards posted around his accommodation and inwardly wondering if the Hokage was warier of others attacking Gaara, or Gaara attacking the Village. Probably both, he concluded, knowing that his actions in the past did not offer any assurances, despite being made so long ago. He set his gourd down next to him and sat down on the lip of the roof, feet dangling over the side as Lee did the same at a respectful distance.

Gaara sighed at the raven’s attempts to be formal. “You realize in a week, you and I will be sealed for life, right, Lee?”

“I know.”

“Then you’ve got to stop treating me like a Kazekage.”

“Gaara-sama…” Lee started, before shifting closer and grumbling, “This feels wrong.”

“It’s _all_ wrong,” Gaara said. “Just because we are jinchūriki, it does not mean we are to be caged pets.”

“Meaning?”

“Well, I certainly don’t bark on command,” Gaara said dryly and Lee turned to him.

“You _are_ well!” he said, surprised, and Gaara checked himself.

“How so?”

“You made a joke,” Lee smiled.

Gaara stared up at the sky. “How can you be so calm about this?”

He wasn’t sure where Lee was looking when he answered, and he was glad for it, because the raven’s words were incredibly honest.

“I wasn’t lying, Gaara-sama. This is an incredibly great honor for me! My only great skill is taijutsu, and yet I am to be sealed to _you_.”

“Me?”

“Yes! You’re a jinchūriki, a Kazekage, and a powerful shinobi. My new lifelong mission is to be by your side as your Minder, and I am most undeserving of it.”

 _Don’t say that_ , Gaara thought, uncomfortable. “You’re one of the very few shinobi to best me in combat, Lee, and I’m fairly sure your love and loyalty for Konoha is on par with Naruto’s.”

Lee’s cheeks were decidedly pink, which was comforting. “You flatter me.”

“You doubt yourself,” Gaara disagreed. “You should not doubt the Village’s faith in you.”

They were lulled into a sense of disgruntled acceptance, before Lee said, “Gaara-sama?”

“Yeah?”

Lee didn’t answer straight away, before he said into the quiet, “Why did you never reply to my last email?”

Guilt stole into Gaara’s mind. The letter in question currently languished under mountains of work in Gaara’s inbox, a result of Gaara not making time for it nor knowing what to respond with. The correspondence had started soon after their night on Hokage Mountain, when he had been overwhelmed at the upcoming responsibilities as Kazekage.

He had remembered Lee’s parting promise of being someone he could talk to, so Gaara had deliberated and doubted and written a million drafts before finally venting his frustrations in one five-hundred-word email, and Lee had been there like a life raft amongst the storm.

So they had emailed each other, sometimes weekly, sometimes with up to two months between. It hadn’t mattered then. It did now. Lee had sent his email in November, and now they were at the tail-end of June.

“I’m sorry,” was all Gaara could say, because Lee deserved better. “I was…my work. It kept piling up and up and up, and then you know, I had the Summit, and I’ve been stuck in negotiations…”

Lee appraised him. “I understand that you are busy, Gaara-sama. I just wasn’t sure if I said something wrong. It’s been eight months since I sent it!”

“I’m sorry,” Gaara said again, that same shyness from earlier stealing his usual political eloquence with words from him. “I…I didn’t have anything interesting to tell you, apart from the same old politics.”

“You are a diligent Kazekage,” Lee said.

“I’m definitely trying to be,” Gaara said. He pressed his lips together, then checked, “Are we still friends?”

“Of course,” Lee said, like it was stupid to even think otherwise.

Lee deserved better than this.

Any continued conversation was not forthcoming, and as the night wore on and Lee struggled to remain awake, Gaara’s initial anxiety surrounding their upcoming sealing turned to dread. They had a lifetime of nights like this to look forward to.


	3. Swimming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaara hates water.

Konoha’s sunrise was fresh and crisp, and the morning was spent eating breakfast on the dining terrace. Lee sat on the opposite side of the table after much prodding from Gaara and attempted to look energetic, although the raven had spent most of the night yawning and dozing before catching himself again. Gaara knew better than to tell the jōnin to go for a nap, though, because Lee was a little like Naruto: stubborn and noble and pretty likely not to follow Gaara’s suggestion. So he didn’t mention it.

“I thought I’d— _we’d_ —visit Naruto today,” Gaara said.

Lee nodded eagerly. Gaara still felt awkward as hell.

The blond lived in one of the more upbeat ends of the Village, although Gaara suspected that it was only due to the presence of Sasuke. He had visited Naruto’s old apartment the last time he had been in Konoha, and the place had been haphazard, to say the least. Now though, the building was pristine, the receptionist taking one look at Gaara and Lee and nearly falling out of her chair as she attempted to ask whether they required anything. Gaara told her the parts she needed to know, and no sooner had she given them the number of Sasuke and Naruto’s apartment, they left her to her own devices.

“Gaara!” Naruto crowed as soon as he opened the door, and after attacking Gaara with a mighty embrace, saying, “Lee! You look _tired_ ,” he ushered the two of them into the lounge. “Man, it’s _so_ good to see you, Gaara.”

The blond sat them on the couch and plopped into one of the armchairs. His hair had grown again, long blond locks that brushed his collarbones. Gaara inwardly marveled at how the ninja had managed to get his jōnin jacket colored black and orange.

“You look well, Naruto,” Gaara commented and the blond grinned, before looking over at the closed door that Gaara presumed led to Sasuke’s room.

“So do you. The _teme_ is still asleep.”

Gaara shrugged, wanting to discuss their situation. “How are you feeling, though?”

Naruto’s grin was uneasy. “Probably the same as you.”

“Like cattle?” Gaara offered and Naruto chuckled.

“Maybe not so pessimistic.”

“It’s inhumane.”

“Yeah,” Naruto said. “I know what you’re getting at. But, it could be worse, you know? There are far worse punishments.”

Here, he looked longingly at Sasuke’s closed door again, and not for the first time did Gaara wish he could speak openly with his friend about Uchiha. The summit had been almost a month ago, and yet they hadn’t gotten the chance to talk about their impending seals, or what exactly Naruto had done on his sabbatical to convince Sasuke to come back to Konoha.

“I missed you,” Gaara said softly, and Naruto’s eyes crinkled at the corners.

“So did I,” Naruto said. “When this is all over, I’ll come to Suna for a bit, yeah?”

“Please.”

“Done.”

Naruto talked to Lee, next, full of heavy questions like if Lee was happy to have been chosen, and whether or not he was prepared for the Suna heat when he travelled with Gaara. Gaara remained quiet, thankful for the pair’s exuberance, because his simmering anxiety went unnoticed by them. He wished he had Naruto’s optimism.

 

 

That night was spent in the confines of his room.

It was less to meditate and more to let Lee fall asleep, so exhausted was he from staying awake the previous night, and Shukaku was in an amenable mood so Gaara did not mind.

Sunrise eventually roused him from the mental plane and he changed into his daily maroon uniform rather than the Kazekage robes before seeking out Lee for breakfast. The jōnin was waiting for him on the dining room terrace, and they traded arguments with each other regarding their seating positions until Gaara told Lee that he would not eat if the jōnin did not sit next to him.

“Head and tail,” Lee pleaded, but the table was ridiculously long and Gaara did not want to spend his meal with Lee all the way at the other end.

“Next to me,” Gaara said, adding, “Unless the proximity offends you so much.”

“That’s unfair to say,” Lee said glumly, but his honor won out and he took the chair to Gaara’s left. “I should not be sitting next to you, Gaara-sama.”

“You’d rather have a shouting match across the table?” Gaara said, and Lee’s eyes crinkled in spite of the raven’s disagreement.

“I am not worthy!” he lamented.

 _Yes, you are,_ Gaara thought. “You are my friend and I want us to stay that way.”

Lee grumbled his acquiescence. The silence was thick and awkward and it failed to dissipate when Gaara told Lee his intentions to go sightseeing. However, Lee seemed more than happy to oblige, so Gaara explored the more scenic side of Konohagakure with the raven, who remained at a safe distance as Gaara wandered through the inner forests.

The day was nearing noon when Gaara happened upon an untouched spot. It was a waterfall, much smaller than the larger ones belonging to the Land of Fire where most tourists frequented, and it had a pool extending from it.

“Do you swim, Kazekage-sama?” Lee asked as he dropped down behind Gaara.

Gaara sought out how far away the raven was, the sands beneath Lee’s feet shifting restlessly until Gaara sensed the distance and deemed it annoying. “No. I hate water.”

“What? Swimming is good for the soul! It invigorates your muscles, soothes old aches. Why do you hate it?”

“It’s just very…wet.” Gaara blinked, regarding the cool water with something akin to interest, but not quite. It struck him that in Suna, there were no waterfalls such as this, which would be convenient in the more humid months, no matter how used to the heat Gaara was. “And, I have never been swimming.”

“Surely you’ve visited an onsen, though,” Lee coaxed and Gaara shook his head.

“No. I take sand baths.”

Lee moved closer. “I don’t believe this!”

“Perhaps you can show me next time, then.”

“Not now?” Lee asked, and Gaara shook his head.

The mere thought of exposing more than necessary of his pale skin was off-putting, and being immersed in water was an even greater negative factor.

Lee gave him one of those grins he got when he was about to promise something. “Do not worry, Gaara-sama. I will teach you.”

“Thank you?”

There must have been some unspoken deal that he agreed to then, because in the next instant Lee was nodding and unzipping his jōnin jacket and setting it on the ground before starting on the bandages wound around his wrists.

Gaara frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Showing you how to swim,” Lee stated, finishing unwrapping one forearm and starting on the other.

“Oh,” Gaara said in realization, and the raven winked at him and gave him another grin.

Lee’s skin, it turned out, was like Gaara anticipated, and then it wasn’t. Though not as tanned as Naruto, he was not pale either; a shade darker than Gaara or Hyūga Neji, with smooth muscles and a lean frame. Gaara blinked and then blinked again before Lee was fully undressed with his clothing in a neat pile: shoes followed by orange legwarmers and topped off with the jōnin jacket and green jumpsuit. The raven dove into the water and Gaara suddenly decided that suggesting to Lee to teach him how to swim hadn’t been a very good idea.

“Aren’t you coming?” Lee asked, treading water in middle of the pool.

Gaara, who was not one to show any emotion on his face unless he deemed it absolutely necessary, balked. “Why?”

“Well there’s no point in showing you how to swim if you don’t come in,” Lee replied and Gaara swallowed.

He was Kazekage, damn it. He had defeated enemies for as long as he could remember, killed countless people thanks to his unhealthy obsession with blood. He had seen the light and managed to convince his people that he was more than a killing machine and they had let him become ruler of their country.

He was on the edge of what could possibly lead to world peace, regardless of how much it felt like the Kage were taking away his—and the rest of the jinchūriki, he supposed—human rights. Now was not the time to be getting squeamish over a simple _swim_. Faintly, he felt Shukaku’s presence, deciding that it was safe enough for the bijū to remain where he was. Then he sent out a warning message, just to be sure.

 _Whatever, kid,_ Shukaku muttered, already drifting off to his dormant state again, and Gaara no longer had an excuse to not take off his clothing. There were downsides, it seemed, to being on mutual terms with Shukaku.

Reluctantly he realized he wasn’t going to win by simply saying _no_ , as well as the reminder that his _Minder_ deserved a say in what they did, considering the raven hadn’t in being chosen, so he set his gourd down and started on the buckles of his vest, wishing his hands weren’t shaking. Eventually he managed to undo them and slid the item of clothing onto the ground before starting on his boots. Then came his dark trousers, followed by his maroon robes and white scarf, until at last, he was exposed, pale and too white in the sun.

At least it wasn’t like Suna, Gaara mused grudgingly. The sun there was much brighter than Konoha’s, and as a result Gaara had gotten quite sunburnt from staying unclothed for more than ten minutes. Not that Gaara had done that very often; it had only been on certain occasions when he was young, back when Yashamaru had been alive and had thought it necessary for Gaara to get his vitamin D every so once in a while.

 _Lee is in the water_ , Gaara reminded himself and he stepped forward stiffly as the raven swam closer to the bank, checking to make sure that his sand was close at hand if he felt the need.

The raven was smiling, “Took you long enough.”

“It’s been a while,” Gaara motioned to his pale forearms, too self-conscious. “As you can tell…I don’t see the sun much.”

“You look fine,” Lee remarked, ever the earnest one, and Gaara stepped into the water.

It was tepid and the bottom was pebbly and he still hated it. Gaara sucked in a breath and waded out deeper, hands poised above the surface like he was afraid to break it. Lee chuckled and moved near, pausing as Gaara stopped when he was up to his torso in water. Gaara swallowed, focusing on the tension around him. It was gentle, barely there, but still present enough. And it was _wet_.

This was nothing like bathing. There was no comfort offered by the dry sand; instead, there was only mud and pebbles beneath Gaara’s feet, and Lee was expecting him to swim.

“How…” Gaara broke off and tried again, fighting to keep the tremor from his voice. “I don’t know— _Lee_.”

“Stretch your arms out,” Lee demonstrated. “And move your legs like a frog’s.”

“That’s all?” Gaara said dubiously, and Lee nodded.

“It will keep you afloat if you do it right. Go on! Give it a try.”

“Comforting,” Gaara muttered, kicking off the bottom.

He sank straight away, which wasn’t a surprise, really, and then two strong arms were around his waist and pulling him up, back to the surface, back to the light.

“You didn’t kick!” Lee panted, still smiling his ridiculous ‘nice guy’ smile.

Gaara felt like hitting him. He was stuck with this idiot for the rest of his life. “I had not noticed.”

“Sorry,” Lee apologized, releasing Gaara before immediately claiming him again when Gaara started to flail once more. “Kick with me.”

Gaara noticed then, the movement of the raven’s legs. It _was_ like a frog, it appeared, and Gaara copied the action, albeit clumsily. Lee murmured some sort of encouragement but Gaara was too occupied with focusing on keeping himself afloat, until he realized that the raven had let him go and he was on his own. He panicked and sank again and once more Lee was there, hauling him back up.

“And you were going so well!” Lee smiled.

Gaara tilted his head, exhausted. His sudden fatigue was not the best reflection of his stamina.

“Remember to kick.” 

 

 

By the time they climbed out of the water, the sun was low in the sky and flirting with the horizon. Gaara’s pale skin was somewhat pinkish, but not enough to be classified as sunburn, so he brushed it aside as he located his clothes and used his sand to absorb the wet droplets clinging to his skin. Lee redressed next to him, Gaara silently mourning the loss of that lovely tanned skin as it disappeared beneath the over-bright green jumpsuit and its lighter jōnin jacket. The legwarmers came next, and Gaara suddenly remembered to get dressed himself, pulling on his clothes with a haste that was not very befitting for a respectful Kazekage.

“Ready?” he attempted to ask in a steady voice, but the swimming had made him tired and he was fairly sure he came across as such.

“Always, Gaara-sama,” Lee replied with enthusiasm and Gaara pinched the bridge of his nose.

“ _Lee_. I wish you wouldn’t refer to me so formally,” he said, adjusting his gloves until they sat more snugly around the first knuckles of his fingers. “We’re the same age.”

“You’re in a higher position,” Lee pointed out. “You are a Kage, and I am merely a jōnin.”

“A stubborn jōnin, at that,” Gaara nodded and eased away from the argument. “Come. It’s getting dark.”

“Yes, Gaara-sama.”

“ _Gaara._ ”

“ _Stubborn._ ”

The two of them reentered the Village a little after sundown, only to have Naruto greet them with his usual fervor. Nearby, Sasuke stood alone, clad surprisingly in a jōnin jacket with his _hitai-ate_ tied around his forehead. Gaara appraised him with masked interest, before turning back to Naruto to catch the end of the blond’s chatter.

“Gaara-sama?” Lee asked, and Gaara refrained from harming the raven.

“Sure,” Gaara replied, having no idea what he was agreeing to, but suddenly Naruto’s face lit up and Gaara suspected that it was a good thing he answered in the affirmative genre.

“Great,” Naruto beamed, reaching out to tug on Gaara’s sleeve and meeting sand instead. “You know, you’d think after all these years Shukaku would let me touch you. I’m _wounded_.”

“He _protects_ me. Perhaps he thinks you’re dangerous.”

“Ooh, I’m _incredibly_ dangerous. You and I are going to end the world.”

“Don’t say that too loudly,” Gaara mused.

“ _We’re going to end the world!_ ” Naruto yelled, laughing as he ran to Sasuke.

They were going to ramen, Gaara learned when he asked Lee quietly, and Sasuke gave a brief tilt of his head in Gaara’s direction before falling into step with Naruto, who waited until Gaara caught up to start off. Ichiraku’s seemed like the type of place that suited Naruto well, if the blond’s obsession with ramen was anything to go by. He ordered at least half the menu for himself, Sasuke rolling his eyes and slurping his noodles with a little more finesse than Naruto.

“What did you guys do this afternoon?” Naruto asked, somehow finding room to talk in amongst his dedicated consumption of his ramen.

Gaara trailed his chopsticks through his bowl, “I had…swimming lessons.”

“Lessons?” Naruto repeated. “You don’t know how to swim?”

“Didn’t,” Gaara corrected. “Lee showed me.”

“Oh yeah,” the blond grinned wickedly. “How’d that go, huh?”

“Interesting,” Gaara mused. “I think my swimming ability is passable, at best.”

“Gaara-sama is just being modest,” Lee intercepted. “He was a fish in water after an hour or two; he was born to swim.”

“Hardly,” Gaara countered. Naruto was still grinning at him, and Gaara wondered what he had missed, before deciding it didn’t bother him, whatever it was. “How are you, Sasuke?”

The Uchiha regarded him. “As well as can be expected. You’re on Wednesday, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Gaara said slowly. “I’ll be at yours tomorrow, though.”

“I’m sure Naruto will drag me along to yours, then,” Sasuke said.

Gaara was not sure how to answer that, and he said no more to Uchiha for the remainder of the meal. They said their goodbyes to the pair, and then traveled back to Gaara’s complex, the night air steadily decreasing in temperature as they went.

Gaara was beginning to appreciate the cool aspects that The Leaf had to offer, even though the xeric features of his homeland were still preferable. Lee stayed silent next to him and they arrived at the complex within a few minutes, Gaara dropping his gourd to the ground almost immediately and tugging at his scarf, unused to having an audience but feeling the need to ease the weight on his shoulders. Lee settled on one of the couches in the lounge, and Gaara paused in removing his scarf to take notice.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, before busying himself with folding the scarf. “For today.”

“You are most welcome, Gaara-sama!” Lee replied. “My duty is to serve and protect you.” He added in a less formal tone, “I am glad you enjoyed today.”

“Yes,” Gaara remarked. “I thought nearly drowning countless times was entertaining as well.”

Lee snorted, before the sound became a laugh and then merged into a yawn.

Gaara frowned. “You should go to sleep.”

“But you aren’t, therefore I can’t either.”

“You _can_ ,” Gaara retorted. “I see the sleep in your eyes.”

“But I’m supposed to—”

“Look, I know you’re responsible for me and that I keep saying it, but we are being sealed on Wednesday. _For life_. You can’t be an insomniac forever, Lee.”

“I can certainly try!”

“ _No._ We both know I’m perfectly capable of fighting,” Gaara replied, the unspoken reminder of the time when Lee was left crippled lingering between them. “Go to _sleep_ , Lee. I shall wake you if there is anything pressing.”

When Lee didn’t back down, Gaara sighed and walked over, pressing his fingers to the raven’s forehead with a murmured _sleep_. The jōnin did so instantly, and Gaara assisted him down onto the couch before heading up to the roof with his gourd to watch the stars.

Below him, the complex was quiet and the guards stood still as Gaara jumped down to the courtyard, sand spilling out from his gourd in anticipation.

The first movement was easy, followed by another claw resembling Shukaku’s as it swept into the sky like a giant hand grappling at the moon. Gaara directed it down again, wincing at the pungent scent of blood that resided in his sand. Back when he had become Kazekage, he had contemplated removing the blood-infused sand and starting over with new, fresh sand that had no lingering legacies. In the end, he’d kept the sand in an attempt to remind himself of who he had once been; a sentimental movement that Temari had found slightly weird but had remained silent on.

There was some shuffling amongst the guards, but Gaara ignored them, expending his chakra and forcing it through his sand until he could feel its force, strong and unrelenting as the claw wound its way into the sky. Let them fear him, at least for a moment. Unlike Naruto and Kurama, Gaara did not have full reign over the power Shukaku had, an arrangement that the one-tail had been unwilling to share as of yet. Because of this, he also did not have proper control, so whilst he was on good terms with the tanuki, it also didn’t mean he could completely trust him.

Gaara twisted his hand, commanding the sand to sweep in a curving motion until it gripped itself and curled into a ball, before rotating slowly and gaining speed. Within seconds Gaara had a fully-fledged mini-tornado in his command, and it soared into the air, dispersing the moment Gaara deemed it too powerful to be performed in the middle of the night. The sleeping Village was to be considered, of course, as was the whole damned world, apparently.

When he was little, Gaara had started to model his thoughts from sand; an attempt at trying to replicate the dreams that Kankurō and Temari told him about that one could only experience if they went to sleep. Inconvenient, on Gaara’s part. The sand models usually took whatever form Gaara thought them to be, and up until after the chūnin exams and Lee and Naruto, they had always been of his victims, faceless and in agony. These days though, now that Gaara had picked up the habit, they tended to be of happier things, such as the Village of Suna, or whatever Gaara had done that day, which usually resulted in piles of paperwork and wizened government officials seated at round tables.

Now, Gaara could only see Lee; tall, stubborn Lee with the eyebrows that he had grown into; lean, wide-shouldered Lee in his garish jumpsuit and legwarmers with the outstretched thumbs-up and accompanying wink; naked, muscled Lee with the lovely tanned skin and tempting chest showing him how to swim. Already the sand was shifting to form Gaara’s thoughts, and Gaara slashed out at them, sending the sand back to his gourd. Those thoughts belonged to a path too dangerous to pursue; that much was obvious.


	4. Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one ever touched Gaara. The sand usually never let anyone close enough, and yet here Lee was, fingers on him, gentle and addictive. Gaara wanted more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the shortness of this one—I have no forthcoming excuses :/

As expected, Lee was furious when he woke up. Remorseful, even. Gaara observed the raven stalk around the living room with a dark look on his face. He did not bother telling the jōnin that the only eventful happening of the night was a troop of teenagers smoking on top of Hokage Hill; it would only further Lee’s anger.

“Do not do that again,” Lee said in a very quiet voice, and Gaara frowned at the raven’s tone.

“Maybe not,” Gaara said uncertainly, and Lee looked at him.

“ _Gaara-sama_ ,” Lee said as forcefully as his honor probably allowed him. “You rendered me unconscious with a single touch. What if this was to get out?”

“It isn’t going to,” Gaara protested. “And don’t say it like that. I was trying to help you.”

“No, you manipulated me. _You_ said we needed to work together on this and yet you betrayed me.”

_Don’t say it, don’t say it—_ “It’s not like I haven’t done worse things to you.”

Lee’s jaw tightened and Gaara turned away, ashamed. The jōnin was right, of course.

Gaara pushed his bowl away from him and called upon his sand to replace the grains already covering his body as a second skin. It was a habit Gaara employed whenever he was too near snapping at someone. It was distracting, and he needed it right now.

The silence was unbroken.

Gaara regretted his choice of words. During the budding friendship they had cultivated two years ago, they had touched briefly on what Gaara had done to Lee in the chūnin exams. Lee had spoken of forgiveness, but it was still something that Gaara viewed only with a lot of remorse.

Lee watched the sand shift and he approached, one hand reaching up to brush across Gaara’s cheek. The sand did not protest, allowing Lee’s touch like yesterday, and the jōnin rubbed harder until grains of sand fell away, a faint branch of Gaara’s subconscious stopping them from falling to the ground and sending them back to the gourd.

“We will get better at this, Gaara-sama,” Lee said in a low voice before stepping back, and Gaara did not like the raven’s return to his role as Minder.

“We had better,” Gaara answered irritably, sand building over the spot that Lee had rubbed.

Lee moved further away, changing the topic with, “What are your plans for today?”

Gaara had spent some time last night thinking about a possible agenda after forbidding himself from dwelling on thoughts of Lee. Naruto and Sasuke’s sealing ceremony was scheduled for that later that night, and the Village was pulling out all stops to make an example of it, but before then were hours of daylight to kill.

It seemed only fair to say, “Entertain me, Lee.”

“Pardon?”

“The Leaf is your home,” Gaara continued, pondering on whether or not the request he had just made was inappropriate. “Show me the things you like about it.”

“Alright, Gaara-sama,” Lee said, and he ran a hand through his hair and motioned for Gaara to follow him.

The Konoha sun was back in full swing this morning, and Gaara liked the cool warmth of it as it shone down in the early sky. Lee was exceptionally quiet, a fact that Gaara neither liked nor wanted to keep, but he was not sure how to go around the issue without treading on a live wire, so he remained silent for the time being.

They had landed at a training ground, the ground dusty and the surroundings worn from attacks, tree logs scattered everywhere and large scour marks in the earth.

“Do you plan to spar?” Gaara queried, and Lee shook his head.

“No, Kazekage-sama. I was merely showing you one of the things I like.”

“Your old training ground then,” Gaara presumed, and Lee’s smile told him that he had guessed correctly. “From genin?”

“Yes,” Lee stepped forward and ran his fingers over one of the fallen logs that had over time managed to fuse with another felled tree. “My team; Neji, Tenten and I. We used to train here with Gai-sensei. This was the first tree I managed to knock down.”

“When was that?” Gaara asked, curious at Lee’s wistful tone.

“I was twelve. Late, I know, but I can’t help being useless at ninjutsu and genjutsu. Neji always reminded me about that fact.”

“The Hyūga,” Gaara said, a protectiveness for Lee stealing over him. “Do you two get along?”

“Now?” Lee questioned. “Yes. Back then? Not so much. But Neji is a better man. Lady Hinata has been good for him.”

“How so?”

“The chūnin exams were the starting point,” Lee remarked. “With Naruto’s encouragement, Neji realized that his bitterness did not need to define him, and Hinata’s forgiveness helped greatly.”

“They are well, then?” Gaara mused.

“Engaged,” Lee said, and he grinned at Gaara’s raised brow. “An arranged marriage, but both are very happy with the union. Neji had informed us previously of his desire to wed Lady Hinata, and I think he may have had some influence in the decision.”

Gaara thought—amused at the irony—of how it seemed that no one really decided their future; they were all pawns in a larger game. “Do you _truly_ not mind being sealed with me?”

“I told you I didn’t!” Lee said, before asking, “Do you?”

Gaara felt his face grow hot. “No. You are my friend.”

“Then think no more of it!” Lee said. “Isn’t it funny how everyone who used to have such bad blood between them have now set aside their differences in favor of love?”

Gaara blinked at the implications of what Lee had just said. “Love? Lee, we didn’t get to choose this.”

“Well _I_ am not complaining.”

Gaara blinked again, and although he did not quite understand how Lee was so offhand about their situation, he did not pursue the topic.

“Come,” Lee said. “I think you have seen enough of my genin memories. We should hunt down the Hyūga pair! You seemed to share a good deal of camaraderie with the two last time you visited.”

“They are…surprisingly enjoyable,” Gaara said, and Lee nodded.

The raven left quickly and Gaara struggled to catch up with him, but eventually they matched their speeds. The Hyūga were located in their complex, and once word was sent that the Kazekage was requesting to see Neji and Hinata, the two appeared almost immediately, clad in identical clothing belonging to their clan: white, loose-fitting garments with their dark _hitai-ates_ curled around Neji’s forehead and Hinata’s neck.

“Neji, Lady Hinata,” Lee greeted each of them in turn. “I apologize for the impromptu visit, especially on today of all days, but Gaara-sama wished to visit you.”

“That’s alright, Lee-sama,” Hinata nodded, her cousin smiling at Gaara. “Hello, Lord Kazekage,” she said, and Gaara almost smiled back.

“Call me ‘Gaara’, please,” he replied instead. “Lee insists on keeping formalities that I tend to find tedious and unnecessary.”

“As always,” Neji commented, but the insult lost its bite in the fond tone the brunet used.

“Very well then,” Hinata nodded. “Gaara-sama, will you join us for luncheon?”

“Lee?” Gaara asked and Lee motioned to him, a clear indication that the decision rested with Gaara. “Thank you, Lady Hinata. We will.”

Hinata looked pleased, and she lead Gaara away as the other two followed closely behind.

 

 

Luncheon was an enjoyable affair, and regretfully they had to depart after a couple of hours to prepare for Naruto and Sasuke’s sealing. Lee seemed happy enough, chatting away to Gaara as the two of them returned to Gaara’s complex. Gaara’s sand was shifting, restless even after the small exercise Gaara had given it the previous evening, and the gourd was idly spinning. Gaara glared at it and the movement stopped, but the grains were still spilling over each other and the action was getting on his nerves.

“How was that?” Lee queried and Gaara stood, raising a handful of sand and inspecting it for any irregularities. “Gaara-sama?”

“Pleasant,” Gaara replied, preoccupied with his sand: there was an excess of chakra.

Gaara sighed and removed the unnecessary excess, absorbing it and feeling slightly more settled. The sand felt it too, returning to a more dormant state as Gaara sat down once more. He would have to summon his valet soon, but he didn’t want to leave Lee. Not yet.

“Thank you, for today, Lee.” He chewed the inside of his cheek, “Can…call me ‘Gaara’, Lee. Please.”

“But it feels so _wrong_.”

Gaara almost laughed. “Why do you always think that? Not using honorifics is what feels wrong about this arrangement?”

Lee tilted his head to the side, before he stood and knelt much too close in front of Gaara. “Are you alright?”

Gaara wanted to say yes, but that would be lying, and already Shukaku was getting restless—that would explain the sand, then. The imbecile.

Because of that, he answered in the negative, and Lee sighed and raised a hand to touch Gaara’s forehead lightly, fingers tracing over the carved kanji for ‘love’.

“This is one of my favorite words,” Lee said softly.

Gaara did not answer— _how was he supposed to_ —and instead sat resolutely still, waiting as Lee trailed his hand over the scar before drifting down his face and resting in the hollow of his throat. He swallowed the lump in his esophagus to stop the words from clawing up and out.

No one ever touched Gaara. The sand usually never let anyone close enough, and yet here Lee was, fingers on him, gentle and addictive. Gaara wanted more.

“Was this in the job description?” he murmured, to ground himself, to stop from reaching out and grabbing Lee by the shoulders.

He had the sudden thought of pushing aside the jumpsuit and biting into Lee’s collarbone, tasting it and then biting down again.

The raven before him blinked languidly. “No, it wasn’t.”

But he didn’t move his hand, and Gaara did not stop him, saying, “We’re to be sealed soon.”

“Yes, Gaara-sama,” Lee said, still so calm. “As you keep saying.”

“I’m just…” Gaara trailed off, searching for a thread of confidence. “I’m not sure how being sealed warrants physical contact.”

In that moment, Gaara realized that he wanted nothing more than to let Lee’s hand curl around his neck and stay there. Then he came to the further realization that he couldn’t jeopardize their _lifetime_ seal, that he needed to retreat to his room and try not to think too hard about how Lee’s mouth moved when he talked.

Gaara was no fool, but he was no expert either, and there was a large portion of doubt that told him Lee would never be interested in him _like that_. It wasn’t too long ago that Lee had been facing a life as a cripple thanks to him, and they were supposed to be friends now. Just because Lee had taken him swimming once and showed him The Leaf, it did not mean he was attracted to him. It would be so much like Gaara to misinterpret the raven’s camaraderie, and so much like Lee to give more than necessary because of the power imbalance, and Gaara wanted their seal to be made easy wherever possible.

“I wish to retire,” Gaara said suddenly, regretting the words the instant they were out but unable to reclaim them.

Lee nodded and let his hand slide from Gaara’s pulse point, offering Gaara a small smile before standing and returning to the opposing couch. Gaara dipped his head and stood, leaving for his designated room and lying down on the bed, even though he had absolutely no intentions to slumber.

_Stop sulking, kid,_ Shukaku muttered, and it furthered Gaara’s bad mood.

He shot back a snappy retort and pinched the bridge of his nose, debating on the wisdom of his earlier thought process, and wondering what would have happened if he acted on it. They remained daydreams though, and he allowed himself to dwell on them for ten minutes before summoning his valet.


	5. Sealing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naruto and Sasuke get married—essentially

It was a wedding.

It wasn’t, but it really _was_.

They gathered in circles under Hokage Rock in a hierarchal order: firstly, dignitaries, followed by family members, and then fellow shinobi. Gaara kept the Kazekage hat low as he passed the other Kage to his designated seat. It was a relief to be next to Mei; he wasn’t sure how he’d fare if he sat with A or Ōnoki. He chanced a look at the Raikage and Tsuchikage in turn, and decided Ōnoki was definitely the worse of the two evils.

Lee took the chair on Gaara’s right without protest, a move that Gaara was _sure_ Ōnoki would be spitting tacks about, but as his Minder, Gaara figured it was the most appropriate a place to be.

“They’re all looking at you, Gaara-sama,” Lee said quietly, and Gaara scowled.

“Let them,” he said.

Lady Tsunade stood in the middle of the circle, clad in Hokage robes. Hatake Kakashi stood with her, looking vaguely interested. Neither Naruto nor Sasuke had surviving family members, but the blond’s connection with people resulted in the next two rows being full of shinobi. Gaara was acutely aware of the eyes directed at him—a Kage, a _jinchūriki_ —but he swept his eyes over those he could see, grateful for recognizing a few familiar faces and realizing very few of the gazes were hostile. Sakura raised her fingers in acknowledgment and Gaara nodded back, before the gong sounded.

Naruto and Sasuke entered the circle, flanked by eight shinobi. It was overkill, Gaara thought, but then again the entire arrangement was. Both of them wore black kimonos, and they were led to Lady Tsunade.

The gong sounded once more.

“Honorable Kage and shinobi,” Tsunade said, her voice clear and cutting. “Today we gather to witness the first binding of jinchūriki and Minder. With this bond, we will usher in a new period of peace and harmony between the Tailed Beasts and their Villages.”

Gaara tried very hard not to get resentful again. He failed spectacularly.

“Uzumaki Naruto,” Tsunade began. “As punishment for the devastating abuse of your power as jinchūriki of the Nine Tails, you shall be bound to Uchiha Sasuke for the remainder of your days. Should you shift your loyalty, or again use your bijū in a way that compromises the wellbeing of Konohagakure and the wider Shinobi World, Sasuke will be killed. Do you accept your sentence?”

Naruto was pale, not something Gaara recalled ever having seen him. “Yes.”

Tsunade turned on the raven next. “Uchiha Sasuke, as penance for your war crimes, you shall henceforth be bound to Uzumaki Naruto as long as you may live. As his Minder, you are responsible for every action Naruto commits, and should he fail to uphold the wellbeing of Konoha, you will die. Do you accept your sentence?”

Sasuke’s jaw was locked tight. “I do.”

“Let it be known that both parties consent to the following sealing.”

They were disrobed then. Naruto’s Four Symbols Seal was stark against his stomach, and Sasuke had a curious seal on his shoulder. Moonlight shone down upon them as Naruto took the kunai and sliced his hand open; the seal between the jinchūriki and Minder required blood, and it dripped ruby red over Naruto’s fingers.

They had Naruto go first, and his hands were white as he drew the markings for the seal on Sasuke’s left pectoral. Gaara knew his friend was good at fūinjutsu—how could he not be; it was in his _blood_ —but he still found himself marveling at how much the act seemed to be second nature. Sasuke copied Naruto with his own bloodied fingers afterwards, less refined, and then Tsunade’s hands blurred as she closed her eyes, her Hundred Seal spreading over her face.

Gaara felt the shift in chakra first, and then he saw it, a hideously bright light pulsating from Tsunade’s fingers. She laid her hands on Naruto’s and Sasuke’s seals and the resounding impact it left hit the gathering like a shockwave. Gaara’s heartbeat was loud in his ears, and the seals were changing color, changing shape—

“Lee—” Gaara whispered urgently, bile in the back of his throat.

Lee grasped his hand. “Yes? What’s wrong?”

But Gaara couldn’t explain, because he could still see the chakra moving around the area and it felt _wrong_. It was black and vicious and smelt strongly of charred bodies—something he thought he’d never have to smell again for a while—but no one else seemed to notice.

Naruto’s chest was covered in blood, as was Sasuke’s, and their seals changed once more before glowing red hot and then settling with a horrible sense of finality.

“It is done,” Tsunade said, cutting through the murmurs of the crowd. “Uzumaki Naruto, may your loyalty to Konoha be as strong and true as your bond with Uchiha Sasuke.”

 

 

Gaara desperately wanted to vomit.

Lee knew he wasn’t alright, and asked him as much, but Gaara shook his head and assured the jōnin as _Kazekage_ that he was perfectly fine, even though he had never before felt as terrible as he did now. The crowd began to disperse, the resounding chakra imprint leaving a bitter taste in Gaara’s mouth. Ōnoki was barking something at Mei along the lines of how the ceremony hadn’t addressed the majority of Sasuke’s war crimes, and she was doing a very good job of soothing his concerns with her honeyed voice.

“I need to speak with Naruto,” Gaara said suddenly, standing and striding over to his friend without waiting for Lee.

“Gaara,” Naruto said when he saw him.

“Naruto,” Gaara replied dumbly.

Sakura had a hand on both Naruto and Sasuke, and she greeted Gaara when he joined the trio before excusing herself and tending to Tsunade. The Hokage looked like she was ready to pass out, and she was soon led away by Kakashi, Shizune and Sakura. Her departure seemed to signal the official end of the ceremony, and the remainder of the crowd left until it was only Gaara, Lee, and the two new Seal Partners.

“Are you alright?” Gaara said.

“Take your hat off, silly,” Naruto chided instead of answering.

Gaara did as he was asked, and then the blond surprised him by reaching out and drawing him into a hug.

“Are you alright?” he repeated, voice muffled into Naruto’s shoulder.

“ _No_ ,” Naruto said, with feeling, and he laughed dryly.

Gaara’s heart throbbed painfully and after much pushing and pulling, he was the one holding Naruto, the blond shuddering against him. He met Sasuke’s gaze, saw only hurt and regret, and a faint stab of spite shot through him. He might have given the final nail in the coffin, but it was also partly Sasuke’s fault that the jinchūriki were being given a proverbial ball and chain. The Uchiha deserved to be remorseful.

Beside him, Lee was blissfully quiet.

“Does it hurt?” Gaara asked.

“A bit,” Naruto said. “But like I said, it could be worse, you know?”

Gaara shook his head. “You are brave. The _bravest_.”

“I’m so thankful for you,” Naruto said, before he straightened and looked at Sasuke. “Shall we go home?”

“Yes,” Sasuke said.

No one said anything when Naruto clasped Sasuke’s hand, and the pair walked away. Gaara could feel Lee staring at him, but he was not ready to talk about the night’s happenings just yet, so he took off in the direction of his villa without comment.

 

 

Konoha’s palette was silver and cold, and Gaara shivered, thankful when they reached the villa. The guards nodded respectfully to him as he passed them, and he wondered if they actually meant it, or if they truly hated him. He wouldn’t blame them if they did; he was a monster for doing this to his friend. Naruto deserved the absolute world and now thanks to Gaara, he was to live out his days in constant fear of killing the love of his life if he lost control of the Nine Tails.

And what about Lee? How was Gaara supposed to go through _that_ with Lee? By being sealed, he was condemning the jōnin to a lifetime of servitude and babysitting, and unlike Naruto, he didn’t even have a decent amount of control of Shukaku, so how was he supposed to protect him? It felt inherently _wrong_ to ask so much of Lee, and yet neither of them had a choice because _he_ had been stupid enough to agree with the other Kage at the Summit and allow them to control the jinchūriki.

He stalked into the living room and threw his gourd at the wall, his sand hissing in response. He let it curl around the room, because he was angry, and anger was a familiar comfort to him that he had not allowed himself to indulge in for a very long time.

“Gaara-sama,” Lee said urgently.

“ _Gaara_ ,” he snarled in response.

Lee’s brows merged together. “ _Gaara-sama_ ,” he insisted. “You are not alright and it is worrying me.”

“Of course I’m not alright,” Gaara snapped. “I shouldn’t have let it go this far, and now I’ve doomed my best friend to have his every move monitored by the person he’s been in love with since before I met him.”

Lee’s brows somehow knit together even further. “What makes you think you doomed him?”

“Because I didn’t stand up at the Summit.”

“Gaara-sama, you must not blame yourself for the actions of many.”

“How can I not?” Gaara protested. “I was _there_ , Lee. I said we would comply. I was arrogant enough to think I could speak on behalf of all the jinchūriki, and yet this entire arrangement will never work because we are literally making someone be the sacrificial lamb for when we inevitably lose control of our bijū.”

“Gaara-sa—”

“Let me finish!”

“No!” Lee said, just as forcefully, and he snatched Gaara’s wrist and pulled him into an embrace.

The sudden contact took the wind out of Gaara’s sails, and suddenly their argument was at the very bottom of Gaara’s mental list of priorities. He blinked once, then twice, trying to process the raven’s arms around him.

“Lee…” he said, unable to keep from noting the smell of Lee’s jacket: forest and petrichor. “What…?”

“Don’t do that, Gaara-sama,” Lee said. “I will not stand by and let you martyr yourself!”

“Martyr?” Gaara repeated, affronted.

“ _Yes_ ,” Lee said. “Everyone knows Naruto’s love for Sasuke is the reason he battled the Akatsuki in the first place, but the jinchūriki have always been feared and the world needs to know it can trust them. You did what you thought was best.”

“But I was wrong.”

“Well you did it with the best intentions,” Lee said. “If we are to be sealed for the rest of our lives, I would rather you did so with dignity than regret.”

“Lee, it’s not _you_ I regret,” Gaara said in a small voice.

Lee drew back to look at him. “Let’s go for a swim.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Sitting on the right-hand side of a King was seen as a place of authority, dignity and rulership


	6. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaara has trust issues.

They returned to the waterfall.

Away from the village center, the setting was oddly serene. Gaara chose to remain silent as they undressed, and he wondered what Lee hoped to achieve by swimming here again. He had not said anything since they had left the villa. The jōnin was quicker at disrobing than he was, and was already in the water when Gaara had only started on the buckle of his trousers.

Rats. Tardiness wasn’t becoming of anyone, especially a Kazekage, so he finished stripping and folded his clothes into a neat pile.

The water was still tepid like yesterday, and Gaara resisted the urge to return to the safety of the shore as he stepped out to where Lee was. Lee’s tanned skin was luminescent in the moonlight, and he was staring up at the constellations, seemingly lost in thought.

Gaara cursed himself for thinking too much about Lee’s physique and chose to ask, “Why did you bring us here?”

“I thought it would be therapeutic,” Lee answered.

Gaara didn’t understand how standing in waist-deep water at nighttime could offer peace, but Lee floated out into the middle instead of offering a more detailed answer.

The water was even colder now, but Gaara figured that his tutelage from yesterday made him more than competent at joining the raven further out, so he kicked off the bottom and frog-legged it over. He didn’t know how to do what Lee was doing, but it didn’t matter because Lee stopped and treaded water with him.

“Look how far you’ve come!” he said, then inclined his head towards the waterfall. “Come on then.”

Gaara sent a prayer to the gods for their safety, and then struggled to catch up. Lee’s swimming endurance was far greater than Gaara’s, and they had to pause several times for Gaara to tilt his head back and try to catch his breath before continuing.

It couldn’t have been any more than thirty meters. It felt like forever.

The last five meters were spent fighting against the current, and Lee employed a crawl-like stroke as he battled his way until he reached the rocky ledge. Gaara copied him to the best of his ability, fairly sure he resembled a rat drowning rather than the athletic prowess Lee had showcased, but he made it.

Lee hauled him onto the ledge, and they sat there, out of breath.

“How are you feeling?” Lee queried when Gaara no longer felt like passing out from exhaustion.

“Tired,” he said truthfully.

Lee chuckled. “I meant about the Sealing Ceremony.”

Gaara sobered at that. “Oh. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Lee put his hand through the waterfall and they watched the disrupted flow splash everywhere. “I think we need to. You said it yourself, Gaara-sama! We are to be sealed in two days. We need to work together from now on.”

Gaara scratched his head. “Do you truly not mind being sealed with me, Lee?”

Lee’s eyes glittered. “I’m not sure why you keep wanting me to stroke your ego, Gaara-sama.”

“I’m not joking. I tried to kill you twice.”

Lee’s eyebrows—bushy and ridiculous on anyone else—knit together. “I forgave you for that, when I was out of hospital, and again after the last chūnin exams!”

“I know, but I have not forgotten.”

Lee’s hand closing over his was a surprise, and though it was decidedly wet and clammy, it offered far more comfort than Gaara thought was possible. “You hold onto things too much, Gaara-sama.”

“Yeah, almost as much as your insistence with the honorifics,” he retorted.

Lee’s laugh was drowned out by the waterfall. “Touché. I meant what I said earlier though. Don’t be so quick to martyr yourself!”

“I’m not being a ‘martyr’. I’m just saying that the Sealings are taking place because of me.”

“Other people made the decision with you,” Lee disagreed.

“That doesn’t prove me wrong.”

“Yes,” Lee said, his hand tightening. “It does. The burden of responsibility is not solely yours to bear.”

Gaara was staring intently at their hands, too afraid to meet Lee’s eyes. Lee’s earnest outlook on the situation was having two very different effects on him; on one hand, he felt even worse for being the person Lee was sealed with—because how could someone so forgiving be shackled with _him_ —and on the other hand, he was extremely grateful for Lee’s faith in him. It reminded him of Naruto, and how Naruto was like seeing the sunrise after a harrowing night.

It took Gaara less than a moment to choose the second effect to focus on.

“Lee,” he said, feeling gauche. “I…thank you.”

“Of course!” Lee said. “I only hope that one day you will trust me enough to talk openly with me.”

“I do trust you, Lee,” Gaara said. He added as quietly as the waterfall would allow him, “I am humbled by having you as my seal partner.”

The air hung between them, thick and heavy as Lee’s eyes widened. Gaara wished the raven would say something— _anything_ —to dispel the intimacy of the atmosphere, but then he noticed the jōnin’s eyes were now welling up, and he was even more unprepared.

“Lee, why are you crying?”

Lee rubbed at his eyes, choking out, “You are too kind, Gaara-sama!”

Gaara blinked at him, unsure what to do but knowing that somehow, a dam within him had broken. “I was just being honest. You deserve so much.”

Lee sniffled a bit more, before he gave a lopsided grin and said, “I don’t know how to respond to that!”

“Me neither,” Gaara confessed, and then they looked at each other and laughed.

And maybe Lee had meant for the water to be the provider of catharsis, but instead it was that moment, sitting on a rocky ledge together with their souls bared as they laughed.

 

 

Temari visited the next morning. Gaara hadn’t remembered her intentions to visit again until she had appeared at his complex in a puff of chakra, and it was a narrow escape, making sure he greeted her dressed in the dignified Kazekage robes rather than his nightclothes.

“How are you after yesterday, Gaara?” Temari asked, sipping her tea daintily.

Gaara glanced over at Rock Lee, who was standing on the porch in his jōnin gear, and swallowed hard. Then he looked back at his sister, saying, “Better. What did you think of the ceremony?”

“Uncomfortable,” Temari mused, inspecting her cup. “Something felt off.”

“Was it the notion of giving Sasuke to Naruto as a ticking bomb?”

“Careful, Kazekage,” Temari said, brow raised. “It will be your turn on Wednesday.” She shrugged and drank more of her tea. “I managed to get in contact with Kankurō yesterday.”

“Oh?”

“Hn,” Temari said, though there was a pleased undertone in her words that followed. “He will be here tomorrow.”

Gaara looked down at his tea. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“We are family, Gaara. That means we’re here to support you.”

“Even though I’m partly to blame for giving the jinchūriki human shields?”

“Even more so, now,” Temari said gently, and Gaara hadn’t known gratitude until Naruto, but then it had been there with Lee yesterday, and now here it was again, thanks to his sister. “You have to let us.”

“I don’t know how,” he admitted.

“You can start by letting us all have dinner tomorrow.”

Gaara decided she could have the moon if she wished it.

 

 

Kankurō arrived early on Tuesday morning with Crow, travel-weary and dusty as Temari ushered him into Gaara’s complex.

“Kankurō,” Gaara greeted, dressed again in his Kazekage robes.

His older brother grunted a response and Temari clicked her tongue in annoyance at the two of them, helping Kankurō to remove his travelling cloak and hood. He was still wearing the purple makeup, Gaara noted with distaste, and the removal of the hood made it worse. He would never understand why his brother insisted on wearing face paint. It was for little children.

They settled in the living room once more, where the butler poured tea for them before making himself scarce. Lee stood to the side, shaking his head when Gaara gestured at the vacant space next to him on the couch.

“I’ll stand, Gaara-sama.”

Gaara wrinkled his nose at the jōnin’s formality, a thread of worry about the impact of Sunday night stealing into his head. Then he quashed the thought, knowing Lee probably thought it was improper to sit in the presence of three family members of the head of state.

Temari began the conversation with, “How was your journey, brother?”

“Quick,” Kankurō replied shortly, and he slurped his tea noisily. “No thanks to you, dear sister. What’s been happening up your end of the world, Gaara?”

“Nothing,” Gaara answered. “What about you?”

“Same old shit, nothing new,” Kankurō waved a hand, before running it through his hair.

A silence appeared, ready to stretch out its arms and settle in, but Temari spoke up, telling Kankurō she would ask the valet to run a bath for him in his assigned quarters, and then she informed him about dinner.

“What? When?” Kankurō had finished his tea and was busy on his third cupful.

“Tonight,” Temari offered lightly, but her tone said that there would be no negotiating.

“Sure,” Kankurō muttered, draining his cup and standing. “Wake me up in time, will you?”

“Don’t forget to bathe,” Temari stood with him, taking his undershirt when he tossed it at her, ignorant of the usual protocol for undressing in the privacy of his room.

“Yeah, yeah, hadn’t forgotten.”

Temari frowned at him, stepping closer and skimming her fingers over a scar on Kankurō’s chest, murmuring, “This is new.”

“So it is,” Kankurō answered softly, but he wasn’t looking at the scar, instead staring intently at the blonde as she mapped it with her hands.

The two of them appeared oblivious to Gaara, who remained seated, staring into the dregs of his teacup and trying not to watch because he felt like an intruder. His brother and sister were so much more comfortable with each other than him because of their closeness in age, and all the years he had terrorized them. The guilt that had been muffled yesterday returned with a sense of renewed energy.

“Go for a bath,” Temari said, oblivious, and Kankurō nodded before kissing his sister’s forehead and leaving with another grunt.

Temari watched him go, then honed her gaze on Gaara and said firmly, “Dinner.”

“Seven,” Gaara said, just as firmly, and his sister smiled slightly.

“Good.”

Then she laid Kankurō’s shirt over the back of the couch and left him alone in the room.

 

 

“Got a girlfriend yet, Gaara?”

Gaara only caught the tail-end of the question when he focused on Kankurō again, and he wondered what he had done for his brother to ask such a thing. The notion that Gaara harbored any feelings of that nature was almost laughable, were it not for the fact that he was fairly sure he held something like that for Lee.

The jōnin had initially refused to sit with Gaara _again_ , before Gaara had abused his power as Kazekage and told Lee that sitting with them at dinner was an order. It wasn’t fair to do that, but Gaara wasn’t about to have Lee stand behind him through the entire meal. It had been one thing to do that at teatime, but Gaara was feeling more than uncomfortably coddled by the time the evening sitting rolled around to allow it a second time.

“Pardon?”

Kankurō sighed, reaching out to ruffle Gaara’s hair. “I asked if you had a girlfriend yet.”

Gaara’s sand batted Kankurō’s hands away as he swallowed, uncomfortable at how close his brother was to the truth. “Why would you say that?”

“Well, you’re staring into the distance like you have one,” Kankurō chuckled.

Gaara didn’t totally understand the humor behind the statement, so he didn’t join in, and Kankurō sobered as he paid more attention to cutting his steak into cubes.

“I’m joking,” he said like an afterthought. “Done anything interesting here?”

“Mainly sight-seeing,” Gaara shrugged. “Visiting Naruto.”

“Oh yeah?” Kankurō chewed thoughtfully on one of the cubes. “That’s the blond kid, right? All orange and loud noise.”

“Yes,” Gaara said, unsure if his brother was playing dumb.

“How are you still friends with that kid? He dumped this sealing shit on you, didn’t he?”

“Don’t be an ass, Kankurō,” Temari scolded, which was hypocritical given her comments on Thursday about the situation.

Gaara chewed on the inside of his cheek, saying, “In short, yes, he is the reason the jinchūriki are being sealed with Minders.”

“Minders?” said Kankurō, never one to be subtle, and he ploughed ahead with, “Why don’t we just call them what they are? Glorified babysitters?”

“ _Kankurō,_ ” Temari hissed this time. “Your lack of tact is astounding.”

“What? I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking.”

Temari’s knife was sharp as it sliced through her steak. “Do us a favor and go back to talking about the weather, will you?”

Gaara swallowed with some difficulty around the lump of food in his mouth, no longer hungry. He hadn’t agreed to dinner only to spar verbally with his siblings, especially in front of Lee.

“Gaara?” Temari said. “Are you alright?”

Gaara glowered at her, before placing his chopsticks on their block and deciding to be honest. “No, actually. I think I’ll retire.”

“Oh. You don’t wish to stay for dessert?”

Gaara bit down on his frustration. It was his own villa, for Kami’s sake. “I do not wish to stay for dessert and be reminded of my failures.”

“Your failures?” Kankurō repeated, like Gaara had just said the moon was square-shaped. “You say that like you’re not getting sealed tomorrow.”

“Yes, _thank you_ for the reminder, Kankurō,” Gaara snapped.

“Boys,” Temari directed at both of them. “Squabbling will get you nowhere. Kankurō, we are here to support Gaara, not drill him into the ground with your insensitive opinions. Gaara, stay for dessert, will you?”

Kankurō rolled his eyes but he said nothing further, so Gaara stayed at Temari’s request. Their plates were soon cleared and replaced with trays of mochi. The silence, which had not been allowed to settle in this afternoon, was now granted free reign over the dining room and it did its job very well as Gaara’s sand simmered unhappily in its gourd. He very much wanted to let it loose and see what it would do.

_That sounds nice, doesn’t it?_ Shukaku mused, and Gaara took advantage of the lack of conversation to steal quickly into their plane of consciousness.

_It’s ironic how_ that _attitude is the one that is getting us sealed with Minders in the first place, One-Tail_.

The tanuki grumbled and curled into a ball. _I miss the old you. Now all you do is plant weeds and talk in meetings. I haven’t tasted blood in_ such _a long time._

_Nor will you,_ Gaara said. _Besides, what is wrong with my forays into horticulture?_

_It’s_ boring, Shukaku said emphatically. _Do tell me when you’ve decided to stop being a peacemaker. All this quiet makes my skin crawl. I suppose I’ve nothing to do except sleep now. How thrilling._

_You won’t be able to sleep through the Sealing_ , Gaara reminded him.

_Oh, well now! That will provide some excitement to my otherwise boring existence._

Gaara ignored the One Tail’s sarcasm-marinated words, and there was another grumble from the bijū before he retreated into the shadows.

Gaara pulled out of the plane, thankful to see that neither of his siblings had struck upon another topic in his absence. The mochi he bit into was sweet and malleable. It was only wishful thinking to believe tomorrow would hold a similar flavor.


	7. Sealing Pt. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Day arrives. Gaara is wholly unprepared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the delay in this one; I hit a roadblock.

Morning dawned much too quickly, and Gaara watched the sun’s molten ascent from the horizon with a broiling stomach. Last night, Temari—in an attempt to lighten the mood—had asked the butler serve them glasses of dessert wine until she eventually succeeded, and the aftereffects had given Gaara a headache to greet the morning with. It was not a good start to an already foreboding day.

A knock sounded, and at Gaara’s assent, the door opened.

Rock Lee strode into the room, already in his jōnin gear, and he bowed low. “Good morning, Gaara-sama! I hope you are well rested.”

“Good morning,” said Gaara, before he shook his head. “I’m afraid I’ll only disappoint you with my answer, Lee.”

Never one to back down, Lee said, “That’s alright, Gaara-sama! There is still time this afternoon before the ceremony.” He paused, before continuing, “I have a favor to ask of you.”

At the mention of their sealing and the request for his help, the broiling of Gaara’s stomach changed to something akin to a fish flopping around on a deck.

_Anything,_ he thought immediately.

“Of course,” he said instead.

Lee’s cheeks were blotchy as he bowed again and said, “Gaara-sama, I wanted to tell you that our swim the other night was incredibly therapeutic for me.”

There were several fish on the deck now and they flopped about with wild abandon as Gaara said, “I feel the same.”

“Ah!” Lee’s brows merged together like they did when he was about to offer up some Nice Guy promise. “Then, if you are agreeable, I would very much like us to visit the waterfall again this morning to—” He broke off, the blotches of pink creeping up his face. “—to calm our nerves.”

   

 

 

The water was cold.

It made sense, as the early hour meant the sun hadn’t been given enough time to heat the pool, but it was just shy of freezing and not at all comforting. If Lee was affected by the icy temperature, he did not show it, diving smoothly into the water and using that crawl stroke again. Gaara was less confident, and he took considerably longer to submerge himself, teeth chattering uncontrollably. He had no idea how Lee was handling it so well.

They swam over to the waterfall again, Gaara silently proud of himself for only needing to rest twice along the way and being able to climb onto the ledge without assistance. His bruised ego from the other day was able to reclaim some of itself.

Lee gave him a lopsided grin, and then he tilted his head back under the flow of water, exposing the long line of his neck, and  _gods,_ that made the fish in Gaara’s stomach turn into snakes wrapping around his torso and squeezing hard.

Two sides were warring between him: the churning dread about the coming night, and his thoughts about Lee. He didn’t know which army was winning, only that it was a fiercely-fought battle indeed.

“Is the swim working?” Gaara queried through his shivers, desperate to distract himself.

Lee’s hair was dripping water into his eyes, which did nothing to help ease the pressure of the snakes. “A little, Gaara-sama! Is it working for you?”

On cue, Gaara’s anxiety crept up another notch. “Not really.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

_No,_  Gaara thought miserably. He wanted so badly to lean in and hold Lee as close as possible and feel the raven’s pulse point under his lips, and yet it was so foolish, so selfish, to be thinking like that, when their fates were quite literally being sealed that night. Lee still deserved better, so much better.

“I’m not very good with talking,” Gaara mumbled. “You know that.”

“This is true.” Lee shuffled closer and put his hand over Gaara’s like the other night. “But can I help?”

Gaara didn’t know  _where_  to begin with that statement. “I don’t know how.”

Lee shuffled closer. It should have been warm to have someone this close to him, but Lee was cold from the water, and when the raven pressed his leg against Gaara’s, gooseflesh followed immediately. Gaara bit down hard on his tongue to stop his teeth and took a deep breath to calm himself. His heart was a hummingbird within its cage and the snakes hadn’t relented one bit.

“Gaara-sama?” Lee asked softly.

The raven made eye contact with him, as if to check that Gaara was alright for him to continue whatever he was doing. It must have been permission enough, because the next few moments were of Lee putting his arm across Gaara’s shoulders and of Gaara trying to remember to breathe properly.

“Is this helping?” Lee’s voice was gravelly and warm.

Gaara’s tongue was thick and uncooperative. “Yes,” he said, stealing a glance at Lee.

Lee, whose lovely tanned skin was finally beginning to warm him. Lee, whose hair was turning golden in the sunlight. Lee, whose large eyes were soft as they looked at him.

It was the most natural feeling to let himself be held.

  

 

He saw Naruto very briefly in the afternoon. It was a spontaneous event, far shorter than Gaara desired due to Naruto’s ongoing discussions with the Konoha council, but long enough for the blond to steal into a teahouse with him.

Sasuke and Lee joined Sakura at a nearby table. She was with her teammate Sai and Kakashi. It seemed strange to choose another table for only Naruto and himself, but Gaara wanted to monopolize his friend for once, especially today.

Naruto gave no protest, sitting opposite him, and the waitress placed a pot in front of them within seconds.

“What’s it like?” Gaara said, wrapping his fingers precisely around his cup.

Warmth seeped into his hands. It was grounding. It was good.

Naruto’s face clouded over. “I won’t lie to you. Everything still hurts. A lot. And the actual seal? It’s  _weird_. I can’t put it into words. It’s almost like I had to make room for something else in me, y’know?”

“Like a bijū?”

“No,” Naruto shook his head. “Gods, no, nowhere near as big or devastating. Sort of like…I don’t know, like trying to put a book into a shelf, only it’s already full so you gotta shove, hard, you know?”

Gaara nodded, even though it made very little sense, and even though the blond’s vague description was doing terrible things for Gaara’s already-heightened anxiety levels. “Did the pain ease at least, after the ceremony?”

Naruto was fiddling with the edges of the menu, so he didn’t answer straight away, which couldn’t be good. “It just felt like I’d been hit by a really bad genjustsu. I wanted to sleep for a year.” He barked out a laugh. “Or two.”

“But did it ease?”

“I don’t want to make you nervous.”

“I already am.”

Naruto drank his tea. “Yeah, fair enough. You know, it’s like breaking a leg, I guess. Just needs time to heal. Look, it’s not something you can describe. You’ve got to go through it to know what I mean.” 

“Okay.” Gaara chewed on the inside of his cheek. “What about…what about Sasuke? How was he?”

Naruto looked at his Seal Partner, and a small smile played on his mouth. “Nowhere near as bad, thank the gods.”

“As bad?” Gaara repeated. “That’s comforting.”

Naruto laughed again. “Come on, like, you and I? We’re jinchūriki, we’ve got two parts to us, so it makes sense for us to be more affected than our Seal Partners.”

Gaara stole a glance towards Lee, relief blanketing him. Naruto followed his line of sight, and then grasped his hand.

“He’ll be okay, trust me,” the blond said, and that was a silly thing to say, because Gaara trusted him more than anything. “And so are you. You’re both going to be fine. It’s not like you haven’t been sealed before.”

“Naruto, I was a baby.”

“And you are an adult now. You’ll be even better this time.”

Gaara put his free hand on top of Naruto’s, grateful beyond words for the comfort despite the ball of anxiety in his gut.

“Thank you,” he said, hoping his voice conveyed the things he couldn’t say.

“Always,” Naruto said. “Look, just…I  _know_ you don’t like this sealing business, and I realize I’m partly to blame for that, what with running off to find Sasuke and the whole Akatsuki thing—” The blond caught himself, then restarted, “What I’m saying is, it could still be worse. We could all have been sentenced to death, you know?”

“I know that,” Gaara said flatly, eyeing the woodwork of their table. “But is a life sentence any better?”

“What would you rather?” Naruto challenged softly. “I’ve been trying to bring Sasuke home for so long, and to have done that? It makes all  _this_  worth it.”

“That’s fair,” Gaara said, because it was.

“Is that selfish of me?”

“A little,” Gaara admitted. “But how can I blame you for that? I just don’t think I can share your appreciation.”

Naruto squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”

“Please don’t,” Gaara said. “I’m in no position to stand on a higher moral ground and judge you.”

Naruto seemed like he didn’t know what the best response was, so he said nothing, and silence wafted over them. On the other table, Sakura was refereeing a stilted conversation between Sasuke and Sai; Kakashi had left them, probably to check in on Lady Tsunade.

“The arena,” Gaara said suddenly, reminded of the Godaime’s exhaustion after the ceremony. “I felt the chakra and it was strange. It felt inherently wrong.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Naruto agreed. “I can feel it grating with my chakra and Kurama’s. He hates it. It will probably fuse with our reserves with time. I haven’t checked it properly yet.”

“Grating,” Gaara mused. “Is it very painful?”

“Do you want an honest answer?”

Gaara shuddered. “How is that even allowed?”

“Well, you know, it’s either a questionable seal or the jinchūriki being hunted,” Naruto said. “It’s like you said, it’s a measure of trust between us and the world.”

“I was wrong about that,” Gaara said, a sense of déjà vu creeping into his mind. “I’m sorry it has come to this, Naruto.”

Naruto’s eyes, blue and honest and always hopeful, held a sort of sadness to them now. “So am I.”

Gaara drank his tea. “I agreed to this, and I don’t even want to do it. I feel like a fraud.”

“Then we are both frauds.” Naruto tapped their cups together.

The knot in Gaara’s chest tightened even further.

  

 

Lee and Gaara were fitted with their robes at the Hokage’s main residence.

Gaara appraised himself in the mirror, feigning vanity to hide the way his heart was thumping itself out of his ribcage. They only had two guards to accompany them, news that Gaara had welcomed with open arms when Tsunade had delivered it.

The less people, the better.

“Gaara-sama,” Lee said, reaching out to touch his hand.

Gaara gripped the jōnin’s fingers firmly. “We will be alright,” he said, repeating the words Naruto had told him earlier.

“Yes,” Lee said, and for the first time, Gaara saw apprehension in the raven’s eyes.

_I’m sorry_ , he thought. 

He tightened his grip, and Lee tugged him closer in turn, pressing their foreheads together.

_It’s just camaraderie_ , Gaara reminded himself, stomach lurching.

Maybe if they just stayed here, if they didn’t leave the room, then they wouldn’t have to go through with the sealing. Lee was not as rebellious as Gaara though. Lee stepped away, and soon, they were being ushered out.

  

 

“Honorable Kage and shinobi,” announced Mei, Mizukage and ordainer, “today we witness the second binding of jinchūriki to their Minder.”

Gaara couldn’t breathe.

Mei’s gaze was the same as Tsunade’s—pitying. “Sabaku no Gaara, to foster peace and collaboration between jinchūriki and shinobi, you will be bound to Rock Lee for as long as you live. Should your allegiance or use of your bijū compromise Sunagakure and the wider Shinobi World, Rock Lee will die. Do you accept the terms?”

The kimono was a noose. “I do.”

Mei regarded his partner. “Rock Lee, your dedication and loyalty to Konohagakure have given the Kage resounding trust in your capability as Minder to the One-Tail jinchūriki Sabaku no Gaara for the rest of his days. Do you accept your position?”

Lee’s brows were a single entity. “I accept!”

“Both parties consent. The sealing shall begin.”

 

 

 

This time, Gaara actually vomited.

To his merit, he held on whilst the area cleared—much quicker than the other day due to his lesser connections—and then it was blessedly only two strides until he collapsed on all fours at the nearest patch of vegetation.

His vision blurred. Acid stained his mouth.

He felt Lee’s hand settle on his back, sensed the jōnin crouch down to his level. It was an attempt to soothe him, he knew, but it only served as a horrible reminder of what they had just done, and Gaara retched again. His throat was burning.

Naruto had lied. It didn’t just hurt ‘a bit’. It felt like his chest was on  _fire_ , like it had been brandedfrom the inside out, and the wound throbbed painfully. He would look at it in the mirror later, when his legs worked again, when he no longer felt physically ill.

“Gaara-sama?” Lee’s voice was scratchy, hushed, concerned.

“Not yet,” Gaara begged.

He wouldn’t— _couldn’t_ —speak to the raven right now, not whilst there was still blood drying on his skin, whilst their vows were ringing in his ears. Residual darkness ebbed through him, much, much calmer than its brutal assault during the ceremony, but there nonetheless, thick and cloying. Oh gods, what had he done?

Naruto was in front of him then, grasping his shoulders, shaking him, dragging him up, murmuring, “Hey, hey, come here,  _come_   _here_ —”

—and Gaara  _melted_ , let himself be wrapped up in Naruto’s strength and faith. He held onto Naruto as if the blond was the lifeline he always likened him to, and  _cried_.

Gaara did not cry often. He could count on one hand the amount of times he had since Yashamaru. It was too candid, too vulnerable. He always caught himself in time. Now though, nothing could keep it from happening.

Grief punched him square in the gut, knifing through him as he wept. It was overwhelming, twisting viciously in Gaara’s chest and throat, and Gaara wished more than anything that he could tear the sorrow and despair out of him. It was too great to weather on his own. He had been stripped of something that he couldn’t name.

Naruto’s hand was tight in his hair, and the blond was hushing him, soothing him, murmuring things about how the pain would pass, how it would get better, but how was that even possible? Gaara felt like his very soul had been torn in two, he had no idea it would hurt like this _,_ and  _gods_ , he’d made Naruto go through it—

He shoved the blond away and hurled once more.

Lee was there with him this time, hand on his back. When Gaara was finished, the raven pressed his cheek to Gaara’s forehead, and it was simultaneously the last thing and only thing that Gaara wanted. How was Lee coping so much better than him? Why was Gaara so weak? Did the sealing affect jinchūriki more? Naruto had said something about Sasuke being alright, hadn’t he?

“Gaara,” Temari’s face swam into view and she cupped his face. “Let’s get you home, okay?”

Gaara nodded at her blearily, exhausted, devastated, and then he was being swept off his feet by someone—Temari? Or Lee? Maybe it was Kankurō. Where was Naruto?

“I’m here,” came the blond’s voice. “I’m right here.”

Did he say that out loud? Perhaps he had. Everything was dark. His body  _ached_. Inside him, Shukaku roared.

_I’m so sorry,_ he told the tanuki.  _I’m so, so sorry_ , and he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain.

When he opened them, he was being laid out onto a mattress. Like a corpse. Sheets were pulled over the top of him. Why did they stop at his shoulder? They needed to be over his face. That’s how dead people had them. He closed his eyes again.


	8. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so many apologies for how delayed this chapter was; I was struggling with both uni assessments and trying to get Soon—the first of two companion pieces to this fic—out of my system, and wasn't sure where Catharsis was heading. Rest assured though, the puzzle pieces are falling into place again. Thank you for your patience x

When Gaara awoke, the room was blinding. He had to blink several times to get his eyelids working properly, and even then, they were heavy as he blearily appraised his surroundings. Naruto was on the bed opposite him, snoring quietly into his pillow.

Upon lifting his head to squint around the room, Gaara saw Sasuke propped up against the wall in the corner. The Uchiha was sound asleep, even though the position looked very uncomfortable.

A further look found Lee, slumbering in the armchair next to the ranch slider. Gaara’s stomach twisted unpleasantly. He had a bad taste in his mouth. His limbs and chakra pathways felt tender.

Seeking answers, Gaara visited his plane with Shukaku, hoping the tanuki had recovered somewhat from last night’s ordeal.

_Kid,_ Shukaku’s voice greeted cautiously, and that made Gaara feel worse all over again.

_Hi,_ he said, sitting on the floor in front of his bijū’s prison, waiting. _Are you alright?_

_Somewhat,_ the tanuki grunted, coming into the light.

He looked how Gaara felt: pale, haggard, _old_. Gaara eyed the slight tremble in Shukaku’s step and swallowed past the lump of guilt in his throat.

_Didn’t feel like taking over me whilst I was knocked out?_ Gaara said, half-joking, half-serious, but fully wanting his bijū to return to his normal sarcastic and pompous nature.

Shukaku narrowed his eyes at Gaara. _Kid, let me remind you that when you decided to swap your bloodshed for botany, it was something we_ both _agreed on_.

_You certainly didn’t feel that way the other night_ , Gaara pointed out.

_Neither did you,_ Shukaku retorted, before sighing heavily. _I am too tired to spar with you right now, kid._

_Me too,_ Gaara said, adding, _I’m sorry for last night_.

_Enough,_ Shukaku grumbled. _It’s done now._

In the dim light, Gaara noticed something. The seal on Shukaku’s prison had changed. He raised his hand, curiosity melting away to confusion when his fingers touched a mysterious black substance on one of the bars.

_What is that,_ he said more than questioned, rubbing his fingertips together and watching the substance fade away.

_No idea, kid,_ Shukaku said. _Feels fucking gross though. It’s everywhere._

_Yes,_ Gaara agreed, touching the bar this time.

The response was instantaneous—that same darkness from last night rose up to meet him like a tidal wave, and Gaara was left gasping, holding onto the bar as it washed through him.

_What the hell?_ Shukaku recoiled in disgust.

The black substance coated Gaara’s hands, thick as tar, and Gaara’s eyes were stinging. He hadn’t expected to experience last night all over again.

_Fuck_ , he choked out.

Shukaku looked like he was torn between talking it out with Gaara and retreating to the shadows. Comfort did not come easily to either of them.

In the end, he chose the latter option, citing exhaustion and departing with, _you be careful, kid_.

_Yeah,_ Gaara answered, watching Shukaku leave with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

The others remained fast asleep in their respective positions when Gaara opened his eyes. Bile threated in the back of his mouth but Gaara squashed it down fiercely. He was weakened by the sealing last night; he would not let it rule him today.

He contemplated waking Naruto to discuss what he’d found with Shukaku, then thought better of it when he saw Lee. The raven was still in the black kimono and it pooled around him, slipping off one shoulder and offering Gaara a view of the mark on his chest. It was black and ugly. It didn’t belong on Lee.

Reminded of his own mark, Gaara resolved to inspect it in the mirror instead.

The wooden floor was cold to the touch and it sent an unpleasant shiver through him as he padded over to the bathroom and removed his kimono.

In the artificial light. the seal was even uglier up close, raised like a welt and marred around the edges. No wonder it hurt. It was carved into his skin.

He scowled at it a moment longer, then dressed in his maroon robes again, craving the familiarity of them.

When he returned to the bedroom, the others were beginning to rouse. Sasuke nodded at him, before striding out purposefully. Naruto was less hasty to leave, and he clasped a hand on Gaara's shoulder.

"Feeling okay?" The blond gave him a lopsided grin.

Gaara nodded. He wondered when he would stop lying like this. "Yes. I…thank you, Naruto."

"Of course!" Naruto chuckled, scratching sleep out of his eyes before ambling after his Minder.

Gaara took a deep breath, before chancing a look at Lee and finding the raven's gaze on him.

"Good morning, Gaara-sama," Lee said, _bowing_.

"Please don't," Gaara said, one hand touching Lee's shoulder, and then he stopped.

Lee was gazing up at him through his lashes and it definitely wasn't something Gaara could think of neutrally. Oh, but how badly he wanted.

"Please don't," he repeated, letting his hand fall to his side.

"Yes, Gaara-sama," Lee answered, and Gaara shook his head, because he didn't want that either.

Light fell across Lee's chest. It brought the seal on Lee’s chest to Gaara's attention again, and he was reaching out before he knew what he was doing, slowly drawing his fingers around the sensitive border. Lee’s chest rose and fell with each breath.

The moment was intimate, precious.

Gaara closed his eyes and took a deep breath to quell the storm raging within him. "Does it hurt?"

"Not really," Lee said, and then he covered Gaara's hand with his own. “We are bound in blood, you and I,” he said sagely. “I promise to honor our seal.”

“Lee,” Gaara said, aching with gratitude and unworthiness.

When he opened his eyes, Lee looked _so_ earnest.

Gaara quirked his lips at the raven, pulling his hand away. He righted the kimono on Lee's shoulders, hiding the raven's skin and seal from his prying eyes. Then he looked away, thankfulness fading and unworthiness intensifying as another dart of shame crept up his neck.

Lee—his _Minder_ —took charge of the situation. “I will see if the others are ready for breakfast, Gaara-sama.”

“Yes,” Gaara nodded. Then, more firmly, “Yes, thank you, Lee.”

And he turned away before he could do anything stupid.

 

 

The breakfast table was uncharacteristically noisy. Naruto was the main driver of conversation, never stopping to exhaust a topic fully before he was onto the next one.

Gaara watched the blond ease his way through the myriad of conversations, thankful for the blond's optimism; it was contagious, and the room's occupants were certainly in need of some. Even Kankuro was clearly enjoying Naruto's company.

As they bickered inside on the topic of which of Konoha’s steakhouses were superior, Temari cornered Gaara on the balcony.

"Are you feeling any better?" She queried, looking out to the village of Konoha so they felt less vulnerable.

“Sort of?” Gaara answered. “I lost something last night. I’m not sure what.”

Temari put a hand on his arm. “Can I help?”

Gaara regarded her. “I’m not sure.”

“Do let me know.”

He couldn’t promise it, but he could try. He said words to that effect and his sister’s mouth curved around a hesitant smile.

“I meant what I said. You have to let us support you.”

“And I’m grateful,” Gaara said, because he was. “But I also meant what I said. I don’t know how.”

“Well, dinner wasn’t a complete disaster.”

Gaara decided his sister had experienced the night somewhat differently. What did it matter though? Change was not instantaneous; it took time. One bad dinner did not dictate the mood of its successors.

“Let’s try that then,” he said, using his politician voice to soothe his apprehension.

 

 

With the two main bonding ceremonies out the way, Gaara no longer had any excuse to prolong his visit to Konoha. He had been gone from Sunagakure for almost three weeks now; it was time to go home.

Lee was already packed. It wasn’t very surprising, given the constant vigilance the raven exercised.

“Do you have other things to bring?” Gaara queried, eyeing the two bags Lee had.

“Nothing I can’t replace in Suna, Gaara-sama!” He flashed a grin. “I’m very much looking forward it.”

Gaara cocked his head. “You’re not nervous?”

“Of course I am,” Lee smiled. “But nerves are good, Gaara-sama. They reflect the importance of something to us.”

Gaara regarded his own tumultuous state of mind, and the gnawing anxiety in his stomach. In the face of someone so open, it only seemed fair to return the sentiment. “Then I am very nervous indeed.”

Lee’s eyes weren’t quite wet, but they were shinier than normal. Gaara briefly wondered if their cautious touches would ever progress, if he would ever be allowed to reach for Lee to comfort him without the tsunami of guilt accompanying.

_Tabun_. Perhaps.

Then he scolded himself for thinking that way and led the way out.

The farewell party at the gates consisted of Lady Tsunade, her right-hand woman Shizune, and Sakura. Naruto and Sasuke’s presences were expected, as well as Lee’s shinobi team and his sensei, Might Gai.

“Safe travels, Gaara,” Tsunade said. “We shall see you soon for the summit.”

“Yes,” Gaara said, bowing in turn. “Thank you for your hospitality. Until the next summit.”

He let Lee say goodbye to his team members, turning to Naruto. The blond, ever the strength and confidence that Gaara had a hard time embodying, engulfed him into a hug.

“I’ll visit as soon as I can,” he promised.

“Please do,” Gaara said, holding on tight.

“I will. Good luck, friend.”

 

 

 

Gaara didn’t realize how accustomed to Konoha’s coolth he had become until he crossed into The Land of Wind again. The heat was an entity of its own, wrapping thickly around their heads, and he was glad to see the walls of Suna in the distance.

A sand bath sounded nice.

The journey had been buoyed by Lee’s chatter with Gaara’s siblings, who both appeared to be appreciating the jōnin’s company. It made something comforting settle amongst the unrest in Gaara’s abdomen; a hopeful sort of feeling.

 

 

 

Gaara showed Lee to his quarters rather than delegating the task to one of the household. He wanted the raven to be made comfortable, and at home. The word ‘forever’ was rather weighty the more he thought about it.

“Do you like it?” he asked, shy.

When he had received his summons, Gaara had arranged for the living quarters to be welcoming to his Minder. It had paid off. The wing had a distinct Konoha feel to it, with plants covering most surfaces, a water fountain built into the wall, and ceiling-to-floor windows.  

“Thank you, Gaara-sama,” Lee said reverently. “I like it very much.”

Warmth curled in Gaara’s chest. “My place is right next to yours.” He gestured to the door tucked against the side of the room. “That leads directly to mine; anything you need, I’ll take care of. And if I’m not available, just ask the household.”

“That’s very generous of you.” Lee looked almost embarrassed. “Gaara-sama,” he said tentatively. “I was hoping to discuss my position with you. I am a jōnin, but obviously have left my team in Konohagakure.”

Gaara nodded. “I spoke with my advisors before I went to Konoha. Since you’re bonded to the head of state, and given the requirements of the seal, you’ll be my personal bodyguard.” He paused, searching Lee’s face for any apprehension or unhappiness. He found only relief. “Is that alright with you?” he checked anyway.

“Of course, Gaara-sama,” Lee said. “Of course it is. I am honored. Thank you for all of this.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Gaara said. “I wish I could stay and help you settle in, but the council wishes to see me.”

“Then you mustn’t keep them waiting.” Lee’s eyes were twinkling.

He was joking with him, Gaara realized, and he felt a small smile creep its way onto his face at the notion that even now, Lee was trying to make him feel better. Gods above, there was no way he deserved someone as giving as Lee.

“No,” he said, catching the sleeve of Lee’s jumpsuit and squeezing softly. “I mustn’t. Thank you, Lee. I will see you at dinner.”


	9. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gaara watches the sun, and pep talks are in abundance.

Gaara sat through his meeting with the council patiently, reassuring them of his wellbeing and the success of the sealing ceremonies. When they questioned the worthiness of his Minder, Gaara ensured his words left a lasting impression; Lee was, he told them, a model jōnin, an exemplary figure of loyalty and resilience, and someone they could be certain to count on.

“Even as a Konoha shinobi?” Sayaka, Head of Arts and one of only three women on the council, said.

As Suna’s highest ambassador, Temari sat by Gaara’s side. Here, she spoke, “He is a Suna shinobi now. He is sealed with our Head of State.”

“He must be seen as one at the welcoming banquet then,” Sayaka replied just as smoothly. “We all know how our Village needs time to adjust to outsiders.”

Gaara fought to keep his expression neutral. He’d completely forgotten about the damned banquet. “Is it still scheduled for tomorrow?”

“Of course, Kazekage-sama. At sundown.”

Gaara groaned internally. He wanted to run his Village, not be paraded around endlessly. “I will leave the remaining preparations in your capable hands then.” He turned to the Head of Agriculture. “Now, Riku, run us through your recent report on flower exports.”

 

 

 

When the council meeting adjourned, Gaara went straight to his quarters. The Kazekage robes came off, and with it, the responsibilities of his position, for now at least. The diplomatic unrest that had been simmering since he’d been appointed as Kazekage two years ago had settled somewhat since Naruto’s return to Konoha, but Suna was not a strong country in any of their sectors, and it was an uphill battle to ensure they did not fall behind and instead maintained their slow progress. If another world war was to occur now, Suna would be hard pressed to stay standing at the end.

_Slow progress is still progress_ , he reminded himself as he stripped himself down to his underclothes.

He took a quick sand bath, then sat on his balcony, replacing his sand armor as he watched the sun descend. It was a giant fiery thing, blazing in the evening sky,

Gaara regarded it, apprehensive at how Lee would adjust to Suna’s climate. The jōnin was used to verdant forests and cool summers; Suna was not a barren wasteland, but its beauty was a lot subtler than the freshness of Konoha. He hoped Lee would come to like his new homeland. Gaara couldn’t terraform the entire Land of Wind for his Minder, but he thought perhaps Lee deserved as much.

So forgiving.

Lowering his ambitions, Gaara resolved to have a pool installed for Lee in his Wing instead; he would model it off their hidden oasis in Konoha.

As the final grains of sand settled into place, Gaara checked briefly with Shukaku, only to find the tanuki asleep. The sun was a thin golden line on the horizon, and he took a deep breath.

Dinner awaited.

 

 

 

Dinner was an informal affair. Temari was in casual clothes, and even Kankurō had forgone the face paint and puppeteer garb.

“Sorry I’m late,” Gaara said, even though he was technically on time.

“Nonsense,” Temari said.

“I think I’ve got a few more grey hairs,” Kankurō smirked.

Gaara didn’t swat his brother around the head like he wanted to. Instead he sat next to Lee, noting how the raven had not gotten the dress code; he was still in his Konoha jōnin uniform.

“Hello again, Gaara-sama,” Lee said, dipping his head in acknowledgement.

Gaara returned the gesture, adding, “Will you ever drop the honorific?”

“No.”

Temari chuckled, reaching for her glass. “You’re quite alright to around us, Lee. It’s only when Gaara is on official business, really.”

Lee shook his head. “Lady Temari, I am still a jōnin regardless. It would be improper.”

“Bah,” Kankurō waved his hand. “You’re in our family now. First names will suit just fine, trust me.”

Lee’s neck was turning red. It was, Gaara supposed, quite intimidating to be in front of the imperial family in the first place, and then being told to address them as equals.

He regretted putting Lee on the spot.

“If you’re more comfortable using them,” he said gently, “then we will not hold it against you.”

“For the time being,” Kankurō snickered. “C’mon, Lee. At least drop the honorific on mine.”

Lee’s mouth opened, and then he closed it. “Yes, Kankurō.”

Kankurō gave a victorious hoot. “See? Easy.”

Gaara caught his sister looking purposefully at him, and raised a brow, curious. His unspoken questions were answered when Temari turned to Lee.

“How are you finding the accommodation, Lee?”

“Very generous, L—” He caught himself, then said, wincing, “Temari.”

“Wonderful.” Temari was all teeth. “Then I hope you are well rested for tomorrow. At sundown, we have the welcoming banquet.”

“Welcoming banquet?”

“Of course.” Temari’s tone was light, as if she was trying not to scare Lee away. “Sunagakure owes its existence to the powerful families that reside within it still. Therefore, the council arranged for a welcoming banquet. It’s to show that you’re one of us now, and not a threat.”

Lee looked just shy of horrified. “I am here as a Minder, though!”

“We realize,” Temari said soothingly. “But Suna is not by any means one of the strongest Villages—”

“ _Yet_ ,” Kankurō interjected unhelpfully.

“—so trust is essential.” Temari gave their brother a sidelong glance. “It goes both ways. You understand, yes?”

Lee nodded. “I won’t let you down!”

“I had no doubt,” Temari smiled.

“Thank you, Lee,” Gaara said meaningfully.

Lee gave Gaara smile that could only be called hopeful. It stretched across his entire face, contagious.

 

 

 

Gaara meditated for most of the night. Shukaku was in a pleasant mood, and though they didn’t touch the topic of the hideous black tar that oozed thickly down the bars, they did spend the rest of their time talking about Lee.

Or, mostly Gaara did.

And only because Shukaku had started by saying, _when are you going to stop mooning over the Bowl Cut?_

_He has a name_ , Gaara rolled his eyes, feeling like a child.

Shukaku had laughed, called him foolish for wasting so much time pining and not telling Lee how he felt.

_You do know how to comfort,_ Gaara said.

_I try,_ Shukaku shrugged. _Look, take it from me, because I’m old, and I’ve seen a lot of things. Be brave and tell him._

_I can’t do that. He’s my_ Minder _._

Shukaku gave an exaggerated sigh. _You humans complicate things far too much._

Gaara rubbed the back of his neck. _It’s just not something I can come straight out with, you know. I can’t jeopardize this sealing. He’s supposed to be my constant companion and shadow—_

_Your sister was right; you_ are _married._

_I’m glad you can’t encourage her_ , Gaara said. _I’d never survive to tell the tale. But in all seriousness, I couldn’t just tell him and make him feel awkward, or worse, obliged to like me back. We’re sealed for life._

_Hadn’t forgotten, kid_.

_I’m just…_ Gaara trailed off. _Look, what’s important here is the peace that we’re creating. The next is making Lee’s role as stress-free as possible._

_What good is world peace if you’ve got a literal storm within you?_ Shukaku questioned. _You cannot create that which you do not have, at least not wholly._

_A partial effort will have to suffice then_ , Gaara said. _Besides, Lee deserves more from this sealing than me just falling into bed with him._

Shukaku leered at him. _Isn’t that called an added bonus?_

_No,_ Gaara said grumpily. _It’s called professional conduct._ Respect _._

_Whatever you say_ , Shukaku grunted, but commented no further.

Gaara closed his eyes. Shukaku had been right about the peace comment, but Gaara hoped like all storms, it would come to pass. He just needed to be patient.

 

 

 

Gaara spent his day training with his siblings. It had been almost a year since Temari had left them for Konoha, so it felt good to get back into the rhythm of their team.

He hadn’t forgotten how proficient his sister was with her tessenjutsu, but she had certainly improved in the time she had been gone. The gust of wind she sent his way was furious, and Gaara had to dig his heels in to keep from getting swept completely out of the arena.

Kankurō was not so lucky, having already been on the outer range anyway, and his aim with Crow went wide.

“You’re tiring, brother,” Temari drawled, sweeping her fan in a playful arc before snapping it shut, indicating the end of their sparring.

“You think?” Kankurō groused, calling Crow to him. “ _And_ we’ve got this damned banquet tonight. I want a holiday.”

“Didn’t we just have one?” Temari teased.

Gaara returned his sand to his gourd, watching it swirl as it went. It was much happier today with the exercise.

“You did with Shikamaru, maybe,” Kankurō grumbled.

“Hey! Brat,” Temari said, whacking him around the head.

Gaara bit back on the foreign smile. “Will he be visiting us before the summit?”

“No,” Temari wrinkled her nose. “Besides, it’s only two months away.”

Kankurō groaned. “You’re so in love with him, it’s painful.”

“Keep that up and I’ll show you real pain,” Temari threatened, before announcing that she had better check to see how Sayaka was going with the evening’s arrangements.

When she left, Gaara did smile. “I would like to see that.”

“I _know_ ,” Kankurō said. He fiddled with Crow’s front compartment for a bit before saying, “How are you feeling after the ceremony, Gaara? I never got to talk to you in the time since.”

Gaara watched his brother work, wondering if Temari had spoken to him. It wouldn’t be surprising.

“I’m…better. Much better, thank you.”

“Cool,” Kankurō said nonchalantly. “I don’t know. I wasn’t in the right headspace in Konoha.”

“Things on your mind?”

Kankurō hummed in agreement. “Yeah, so sorry for being a bit of an ass.”

“It’s alright.”

“Nah, it wasn’t. We’re brothers. I should have been more supportive.”

“Has Temari talked to you?”

Kankurō stopped tinkering to look at him. “No. But you were pretty shaken after the ceremony, and Lee was all anxious. I just realized my attitude the day before had been pretty shit.”

Gaara glanced away. “Temari wants us to make a more concerted effort to support each other. Well, for me to let you two support me.”

“Does she? That sounds wise. Feels like we haven’t had much time together this year anyway.”

“I’ve been busy,” Gaara said, automatically on the defensive.

“Yeah, and so have I,” Kankurō frowned. “I’m just saying. I’m always here if you ever want to talk. Especially so now.”

Gaara chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I’ll try.”

“See no, there you go again,” Kankurō stopped him. “Talk to me. Actually. We used to talk all the time.”

Gaara ducked his head, because his brother was right. There had been a period of time when Gaara had felt comfortable with telling Kankurō about his aspirations to become Kazekage, and what he hoped to achieve.

Kankurō spoke up, “Y’know, ever since you became Kazekage, it’s like you’ve slowly been putting walls up again. Like I can’t speak to you anymore without you hiding behind your formal politician persona. _Especially_ after your friend came back and kickstarted the sealings.”

Gaara drew lines in the dirt to stall. “It’s just…easier.”

“How?”

“Being Kazekage. Dealing with the responsibility.”

“What, by shutting off from the rest of us?”

Gaara swallowed, because all these frustrations were piling up in his head and he didn’t know how to express them the way Kankurō wanted him to. “No _. I don’t know._ It’s hard trying to be the figure of authority all day and then switching it off at the end of it. It’s not like my Kazekage robes; I can’t take away the title as soon as I come home.”

“So what? Doesn’t mean you can’t palm off some of that responsibility to others. Hasn’t being Kazekage taught you anything about delegation?”

“I know how to delegate.” Gaara gouged some more lines. “Sometimes there are things I can’t give to others, though.”

“Like Lee?”

Their sister was always heralded as the most intelligent of them, but Kankurō was terribly perceptive when he wanted to be. Gaara’s face must have shown his emotions, because Kankurō grinned.

“Brother, it’s normal to have feelings.”

“Is this why you asked if I had a girlfriend in Konoha?”

“Sort of,” Kankurō said, shrugging. “I was curious. You and Lee seemed pretty close, and then he was absolutely distraught after the sealing when you just passed out.”

“We’re not an item.”

“I know. I’m just here to tell you that feelings are normal, and you don’t need to run away from them.”

Gaara blinked, still struggling to sift through their conversation. “I owe him so much, you know? This seal; it’s essentially a life sentence and yet Lee has been a beacon of light throughout it.” He paused, trying to find answers in his brother’s gaze. “I can’t ever repay him for that, Kankurō. The Kazekage is to protect and lead their people, I thought I was doing the right thing, agreeing to the sealing. But I realized too late that I did it at the expense of Lee.”

“Well he definitely hasn’t complained.”

“No, he hasn’t,” Gaara agreed. “But for him to give up so much anyway, and then for me to go and demand more from him is so selfish.”

“Don’t you ever question that there’s probably a really good reason why he gave it all up anyway?”

“He already told me that it was a great honor for him.”

“Yeah, right,” Kankurō said. “Honor.”

“We’re not the closest pairing, Kankurō. We’re friends, but nowhere near the same level of companionship as Naruto and Sasuke, or Killer B and A. Gods, I tried killing him twice.”

“Yeah, four years ago, which I’m pretty sure he’s forgiven you for.” When Gaara said nothing, Kankurō pinched the bridge of his nose. “See? This is exactly why Temari and I want to help you, Gaara. All this shit going on and you haven’t reached out once.”

Gaara’s lips quirked. “Yes, but I don’t know how.”

“I call bullshit.”

Gaara scowled. “This sealing business isn’t just going to resolve because I decided to talk about my silly crush with you two.”

Kankurō frowned. “You of all people should know that talking is not just about voicing feelings. It’s about getting feedback. Reassurance. Laying it all out on the table so it’s clearer. Like we used to.”

Gaara took a deep breath, letting go of his anger. “I know _that_. But I feel very selfish to keep asking. _Guilty_.”

Kankurō sighed, because being sensitive to topics like this did not come easily to Gaara or his siblings, a trait that could attribute to their father. “Well, be selfish, for once. You’ve stretched yourself to nothing to make sure everyone else is happy.”

“That’s what a Kazekage does, Kankurō.” It even sounded weak.

“Yeah, to some extent, but not enough that they stop trusting in those around them. And your guilt? I think you need to understand that there were heaps of people who agreed to it. Not just you. There’s a difference between regret and self-pity.”

Gaara rubbed his nose on his sleeve. “I just feel bad. Like I failed at my job.”

“Yeah, okay, but that’s probably normal to feel that way, and you haven’t failed completely.” Kankurō gestured to the village below them. “Suna is still standing. Your seal with Lee means the world will feel safer. That’s already two positives.”

“Amongst how many negatives?”

“And there’s your self-pity.”

“I mean it. It’s like a tsunami. I feel very small.”

Kankurō shuffled closer. “Okay, I know you think you can cope with all this on your own, but there’s nothing wrong with admitting you can’t.”

Something thick and heavy spread in Gaara’s chest. He had to try twice to say, “And if I did admit?”

“You don’t need to,” Kankurō said bluntly. “You’re a mess.”

They sat in silence.

“Let us help you,” Kankurō said eventually. “Don’t be stupid and refuse us. Let us help. Even if that’s just this: sitting on a sparring ground talking about Lee. Don’t bottle it up.”

Gaara found his brother’s hand and held it. “Thank you, Kankurō.”

He watched the sun’s slow crawl towards the west as Kankurō scratched away at the ground. The heaviness was slowly lifting from Gaara like clouds after a rainstorm, and he mulled over his brother’s words, an odd sense of peace in his heart, like a key turning in a lock.


	10. Wanting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they attend the banquet, and Gaara very much wants to kiss Lee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being so darn patient with this update. I got bogged under uni and work commitments for the last month and a half and whilst they paid off incredibly well, it meant I neglected this fic for far longer than y'all deserve. So here's the update. I promise the next won't be nearly as delayed.

Dusk approached quickly enough to press against the edges of Gaara’s comfort zone, but his mood was bolstered by his brother’s words earlier, and so the anxiety was significantly muffled. As a result, he paid it little attention as he took another sand bath and replaced his armor.

Nobu, his and Kankurō’s valet, found him afterwards to help him change. Gaara stayed fairly silent as Nobu chatted to him, grateful for the valet’s easy-going nature. There was a reason he was one of their longest-serving household staff.

“You mustn’t worry too much about the Sand’s opinion tonight, Gaara-sama,” Nobu said, eyes crinkling. “It will work out.”

Gaara tilted his head. “It feels like a mockery.”

“Perhaps it does,” the valet said. “But Suna is resilient. Where others have perished, Suna has adapted to survive. We will weather this storm too.”

“I don’t wish for it to be a storm.”

“And yet the wind comes, all the same,” Nobu said.

Upon brushing down Gaara’s clothing, the valet gave him a once-over and bade him good luck, before announcing he would check on Kankurō again.

“I will wish you good luck in turn,” Gaara said, somewhat humored.

They both knew his brother’s face paint was not compatible with the white robes his siblings were wearing tonight. Gaara felt almost sorry for Nobu, especially since having Lee meant his workload had increased.

“Thank you, Gaara-sama,” Nobu said, bowing and exiting.

The evening light was molten as Gaara appraised himself in the mirror. The kimono itself was cream in color, offset by a maroon haori that matched the tattoo on his forehead. It was, Gaara admitted, a very good choice from his sister. He would thank her later.

He prayed tonight would be uneventful. If it was, Gaara had no doubts that it would not be Lee initiating anything. Nobu had been right when he said that the Sand was resilient, but some of the older families tended towards the more extreme end of the spectrum where outsiders were less than welcome. That mindset, paired with alcohol, did not promise a positive outlook for tonight, and imperial banquets were no strangers to dramatic outbursts.

A knock sounded on the door connecting Gaara’s room to Lee’s. His anxiety crept up a notch before he swallowed it back and invited Lee in, staring at his reflection to gain some courage. It seemed to be in short supply these days.

“Hello, Gaara-sama.”

Gaara turned to greet him and promptly stopped.

Lee wore a cream kimono also, and a forest green haori. There was nothing particularly extravagant or remarkable about the outfit, but its simplicity was _incredibly_ becoming on the raven.

Gaara had no words.

“Lee,” he just about squawked. “You look—” — _amazing_ — “Nice,” he finished lamely.

Rock Lee’s neck was pink again, but his eyes crinkled as he beamed at Gaara. “Thank you, Gaara-sama. You also look nice.”

Gaara didn’t really know where to look. “Did you find Nobu to be agreeable?”

Lee nodded. “Yes, Gaara-sama! He was most helpful, although, I hope I do not require him to dress me every day.”

“Not at all,” Gaara shook his head. “I usually only need Nobu for formal occasions.”

The sigh of relief Lee uttered made Gaara’s heart feel soft, like butter. “That is good to hear, then,” the raven said.

“Yes,” Gaara said, eyes lingering on the skin of Lee’s throat where the collars of his kimono met. “He is an excellent valet. He has dressed Kankurō and I since we were little.”

Lee was looking at him with a funny expression. “We are from different realities, you and I.”

Gaara took stock of the situation, and decided there was no resentment in the raven’s words. “Yes, we are. I hope with time you will become accustomed to it.”

And there was that word again, hanging unspoken in the air: _forever_. Gaara’s mind reeled at the magnitude of it, at all its implications and consequences.

“I will, Gaara-sama,” Lee said, with feeling. “I won’t let you down tonight.”

“You won’t,” Gaara insisted. “I’ll make sure of it.”

The gratitude from both parties did not need to be voiced. Lee stepped forward. He curled a hand around Gaara’s neck, warm and solid, and pulled him close. Gaara thought for the briefest of moments that the raven was going to kiss him, and his heart leapt all the way to his throat, but a kiss did not eventuate. Instead, Lee pressed their foreheads together and breathed in slow, just like that time before their sealing ceremony.

“I’ll help you,” Gaara promised, closing his eyes, pulse beating terribly fast. “I’ll take care of you tonight.”

Another slow, deep breath. “Thank you, Gaara-sama.”

 

 

 

As far as keeping promises went, Gaara didn’t do too badly.

The last rays of sunlight had just slipped below the horizon when they entered the banquet hall, and so the room was bathed in dark gold. Sayaka had done well with her arrangements.

Lee sat on Gaara’s right, a place that Gaara realized would now be a permanent fixture, and he caught Lee’s gaze as his siblings took their seats to his left. He wanted to offer reassurance, but Lee was smiling at him, like he was the one who would take care of Gaara tonight, and the effect left a dull warmth in Gaara’s chest.

He didn’t deserve Lee.

When the rest of the table filled, Gaara got to his feet.

Younger Gaara had always hated speeches. Older Gaara wasn’t too fond of them either, but his time as Kazekage had taught him how to be patient, and how to hide behind a persona. So he channeled that thought process as he cleared his throat.

“Honored guests,” he started. “Families of Suna. Thank you for joining me this evening. It is because of you that Suna stands as one of the five great shinobi countries.” He took a deep breath, stealing another glance at Lee. “The fall of the Akatsuki brought about fresh fearmongering regarding the Tailed Beasts and their jinchūriki. The surrounding villages’ Kages and I sought to find a solution, and we did.”

Here, Gaara gestured at Lee to stand beside him, counting down the seconds in his head as the raven did. “This is Rock Lee, my Minder. He may hail from Konohagakure, but his allegiance to this greater cause we face has been unwavering. I trust him with my life, as he has trusted me with his. This sealing has not only safeguarded our future with possessing the One-Tailed Beast, but also served as a connection to our sister village, The Leaf.

“The seal between Lee and I relies on cooperation and matching intentions; without these, it will disintegrate. Because of this, I stand before you, as a jinchūriki with an honorable and trustworthy Minder, but also as your Kazekage to reassure, and allay any lingering fears.”

He had a captive audience, but Gaara felt like the one who was trapped. He wanted to crawl into the nearest room and hide there until his racing heartbeat had evened out. There was Suna to think of though, and Lee. All this banquet was for Lee.

He took another breath. “I vow to respect the trust you have all bestowed upon me, and uphold the values and wellbeing of our village. Suna will cease to exist without your input and support; in unsure times such as these, I ask again for your faith.”

Silence.

Then Kenta, eldest son and heir to the Tanaka family fortune, stood and held out his glass. “The Tanaka family pledge their allegiance to you, Kazekage-sama. To your Minder, Rock Lee! To Suna!”

Around them, the rest of the table copied, dozens of glasses rising into the air as a  choruses of ‘ _Suna’_ and ‘ _Rock Lee_ ’ and ‘ _Kazekage_ ’ echoed throughout the room. Gaara watched, overwhelmed, as the ball of anxiety in his chest finally began to unravel.

 

 

 

The rest of the banquet dinner flowed smoothly, interwoven with the occasional toast from some family or another, all along the lines of supporting their Kazekage and his Minder. To not drink with them would be the pinnacle of disrespect, and so Gaara quickly lost count of how much he’d had to drink by the time the fifth course had been cleared away and utensils for dessert laid out.

He hadn’t had much chance to interact with Lee, as the raven had been tied up with the many people who had come to talk to him as the night wore on. The latest, Nomura Riko, was another of the upcoming generation in the process of taking over her household. The majority of Suna’s large families had ageing leaders at their helms, and their succession by the younger members was something Gaara hoped he could depend on in the coming years. The welcoming banquet was only the start, after all.

“Kazekage-sama,” Riko said, bowing at him. “My congratulations on your sealing with Rock Lee.”

“Thank you, Riko-san,” Gaara nodded.

Riko was the same age as his sister; in another lifetime, had they been allowed, perhaps the two women would have been friends. They both had the fire of their mothers in them.

“He is a worthy candidate,” Riko continued, dark eyes finding Lee and crinkling at the corners in appreciation. “We discussed his proficiency with taijutsu.”

Here, Gaara nodded. The Nomura clan were well known for their focus on taijutsu over the other two methods. “He is an excellent taijutsu ninja,” Gaara confirmed.

Riko looked to Lee again, who was now talking to Kimura Akihiko, leader of one of the smaller clans from the northern districts. “With your approval, Kazekage-sama, I would very much like to consult him regarding his techniques. Our clan would benefit greatly from his knowledge of kenpō.”

Gaara watched her, possessiveness coiling thick and hot in his chest. It was very hard to squash it down. “Of course, Riko-san,” he said. “And your faith in Lee is well-placed.”

“As is yours,” Riko mused, holding her glass up to him. “He will be a fine partner.”

He tapped his to hers and they drank in agreement.

When she left, Lee turned to beam at Gaara.

“What?” Gaara asked, fighting down a smile, a task that was very difficult when Lee was directing the entire sun in his direction.

“Is it going alright, Gaara-sama? You did well in your speech earlier.”

“Yes, it _is_ going alright, but my speech was merely a piece in this puzzle. This is all for you, Lee.”

Lee turned a rather lovely shade of pink and Gaara drained another glass to stop thinking about how much he’d like to place his mouth on the skin behind Lee’s ear. “We _are_ only halfway, though.”

“Don’t be so pessimistic, Gaara,” Temari interjected. “Lee, you’re doing great.”

Lee’s brilliant smile was muted slightly, but remained there all the same as he told her, “Thank you, Lady Temari.”

Temari smirked at him. “Worry not about your nervous charge, Rock Lee. He probably just needs another drink.”

Gaara gave her a disapproving look. “I’ve had enough.”

“You clearly haven’t,” Temari said, gesturing for their glasses to be poured once more.

Gaara scowled at her as much as being center stage allowed him, and then followed suit when she downed her glass. It wasn’t the best idea, but the alcohol from earlier was making Gaara far too confident.

 

 

 

That much was abundantly clear later on, when the table had been cleared and Gaara finished saying farewell to those who would not be spending the night. Those who would be staying were ushered to the guest rooms by the household staff, and then the banquet hall was empty.

Gaara was very, very drunk. He had anticipated being inebriated—foolish not to, given the occasion—but his current state was bordering on dangerous. He felt invincible.

Lee walked beside him, guiding him down the corridors to their wings. Lee had not joined in on the toasts at all, something that Gaara thought was slightly unfair. The raven was his bodyguard, certainly, but he was allowed to drink.

Gaara frowned, turning to his Minder. “Why didn’t you drink, Lee?”

Lee chuckled, fingers gentle where they wrapped around Gaara’s elbow to steer him clear of running into a column. “Gaara-sama, do you not remember our fight all those years ago with Kimimaro?”

“Your Drunken Fist style,” Gaara mused. "That was an interesting fight."

It was one of those memories that had such moments of clarity, and Gaara had spent a long time thinking about the fight in the time afterwards; at how someone he had tried to kill twice beforehand would stand up for him without a second thought.

"Naruto was not the only one to turn my heart," Gaara said, an ache blooming in his chest again from the raw honesty in his words, and he decided he could blame the alcohol for the way his feet gave out.

Lee’s free hand came up to steady Gaara’s other elbow, and then they were staring at each other. The raven's hands were very warm, and very solid. “Gaara-sama,” he said in a voice that sounded how Gaara felt, and oh, how Gaara wanted to melt into those arms and never leave.

“Lee,” he returned, just as strained.

It felt like they were standing on the edge of some precipice, waiting for one of them to be brave enough to fall in, and—Gaara could be brave. He was Kazekage, and leaders were always brave.

Clumsily, he reached up to brush the hair from Lee’s forehead, wanting to see every part of the raven’s face—the tanned skin, those large eyes, that smiling mouth. Lee remained silent as Gaara’s fingers traced lines over his skin, closing his eyes when Gaara’s thumbs swept across his cheekbones. His hands dropped from Gaara’s elbows to his waist, and then Gaara was being drawn closer—

 _Yes,_ Gaara thought, giddy with the possibilities, _kiss me, right here, right now_ —

Wordless, Lee tucked his face against Gaara’s throat, one arm wrapping around his waist, the other winding up to fold along Gaara’s spine so his fingers could curl into the hair at the nape of Gaara’s neck.

They slotted together, swathed in shadows.

“Thank you, Gaara,” Lee said quietly.

 _Oh_ , Gaara thought as his arms looped firmly around Lee's neck, mind full of nothing more than this: the notion of being held by Lee so tightly, so securely, so perfectly.


	11. Learning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update wasn't going to come for another week but y'all deserved a shorter wait time—especially considering how the last chapter ended. So here you go. Thank you to those who left feedback; I adore each and every one of you.

When Gaara was younger, he’d thought he’d known what was best when he carved the kanji for ‘love’ into his forehead. The wound had bled freely, dripped into his eyes and turned the world red, and he’d been glad for it as he vowed to love only himself.

It was that memory Gaara was thinking of when Lee pressed him down into the mattress, strong and warm above him. It was strange, so strange, to be thinking of that particular moment in his childhood at a time like this, but Gaara barely had any time to ponder on the irony of it before Lee was turning to leave.

“Don’t,” Gaara mumbled, hand catching the sleeve of Lee’s kimono. “Stay with me.”

Gaara’s other hand drifted restlessly over the line of Lee’s shoulders, greedy.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Lee said, not turning around.

Gaara didn’t pay the words much attention though, instead curling his fingers into the sleeve and pulling. “I think it is.”

And gods, he was so bad at this, showing Lee what he wanted, but Lee went with it, climbing onto the bed with Gaara and lying down next to him. They faced each other, moonlight upon their faces, and Gaara smiled at the raven. When Lee returned it, Gaara took that as a good enough sign to lean in and brush their noses together. Then he repeated what he had done earlier: stroking down Lee’s face, mapping out the contours of his cheeks, sliding his thumb over Lee’s mouth.

No one spoke; the only sounds were the rustle of the bedding beneath them, and the hum of their breathing.

Gaara kept moving, as if he could commit the raven’s face to his memory via touch, thrilled at how well he was being received. After a while, Lee responded in kind, fingers skimming over Gaara’s tattoo.

_Be brave_ , Gaara told himself.

“Is it still one of your favorite words?” He asked into the quiet.

“It is my most favorite,” Lee said, with feeling.

That same sensation from when Gaara had spoken with Kankurō, the key turning in a lock, happened once more. Lee’s large eyes were soft, and Gaara stroked his thumb down the bridge of Lee’s nose before kissing it.

_Please_ , he thought, _please know._

Bravery was not an endless commodity, after all. When he drew back, Lee’s eyes had fluttered closed, and the giddiness from earlier returned tenfold. Emboldened, Gaara‘s lips found Lee’s cheek next, then his other, until he reached Lee’s forehead. Here, he pressed a careful kiss, a sacred gesture, a promise.

_I’ll take care of you_ , he thought, the nebulous reality of _forever_ losing a little of its daunting aspect.

“Thank you for tonight, Gaara,” Lee whispered, not opening his eyes.

Gaara’s heartbeat was so unsteady. “Nonsense. That was all you.” He let his mouth press once more to Lee’s temple. “You did so well.”

He went to put distance between them again but Lee’s hand shot up and snagged in his collar, stopping him. The ache in Gaara’s chest spiked and he covered Lee’s hand with his own.

Their eyes met. Gaara was drunk, certainly, but he knew what Lee was asking. There was an odd sense of comfort in the idea that he was not the only one who felt out of his depth.

_I’ll stay_ , Gaara thought, settling his head more comfortably on the pillow.

Darkness blanketed the pair of them, and Gaara found strength in it to link his fingers with Lee, one by one.

“Come here,” he murmured, drawing Lee even closer so he could hold the raven.

Lee came, settling against him with an amount of trust that made Gaara’s throat constrict. Lee’s heartbeat was a steady thud-thud against his own chest, and Gaara let it calm him.

_Of course I’ll stay._

 

 

 

Daylight would be upon them within a couple of hours. Gaara did not visit Shukaku, certain the tanuki would spend their time together teasing him about his current situation. Instead, he passed the time between moonset and dawn riding out his inebriation, holding Lee as the raven slumbered.

The air remained still and quiet, and Gaara spent most of it drifting his fingertips up and down the raven’s back. Lee’s respiration was steady and deep, and his breath washed over Gaara’s constantly, eyes moving gradually under closed lids. Gaara watched the movements of the raven’s face, wondering what he was dreaming about.

How far they had come, he marveled, since their chūnin days.

Gaara ran the fingers of his free hand through Lee’s hair, easing out the occasional tangle and scratching lightly at the raven’s scalp. His duties as Kazekage awaited him in the near future, but Gaara decided that for now, he could lie here with the raven and think of nothing else.

 

 

 

The breakfast table was decidedly quiet, punctuated only by the clink of cutlery. Kankurō looked like he was both still waking up and recovering from last night, poking at his food half-heartedly. Gaara’s hangover had developed not long after Lee had fallen asleep in his arms, and so he too was struggling to maintain the façade that he was coping. Temari was probably the best of all three, but she was no match for Lee, whose sprightly attitude was only muted by the power imbalance.

Gaara guessed with time that would no longer be the case.

“Last night went well, I think,” Temari mused.

“Gods, Temari,” Kankurō complained, holding up his hand. “For five minutes, could we not talk about politics? I am _dying_ over here.”

“Then drink some water, dear brother,” Temari replied with a saccharine smile. “But yes, Gaara, last night _was_ well. Much better than we could have hoped.” Here, she looked at Lee. “You were a model Minder.”

“Thank you,” Lee said, embarrassed.

“We must keep this train of thought in motion, though,” Temari said. “Gaara, I think it would be best if you took Lee around the village, either today or tomorrow. We’ve addressed the higher ranks; time to hit the lower ones now. Solidify Suna’s trust.”

Gaara listened, aware that his sister had valid points and wishing he could ignore the responsibilities instead. “Good idea, Temari. Thank you. Lee, is that alright?”

“Of course, Gaara,” Lee beamed with his Nice Guy smile.

Gaara’s ears pricked up at the lack of honorific, pleased. He had wondered if Lee had only dropped it last night as a one-off. The other two seemed not to notice the subtle difference, saying nothing of it.

Temari clapped her hands together. “Excellent. Also Lee, we must get you a uniform more suited to Suna. Your current garb is too green to be seen as neutral.”

“I’ll arrange that,” Gaara said, stepping in before his sister could. He wanted the job. “I’ll take him to Yūko.”

 

 

 

Choosing not to use any other name, Yūko had served Gaara’s family since before his father had been Kazekage, and was arguably the Land of Wind’s best couturier.

Despite the high caliber of her clients, Yūko liked to steer clear of politics, and it was because of this that Gaara decided against wearing his Kazekage robes. Instead he headed out in his maroon garb with Lee on foot.

Suna’s temperature was creeping upwards as the days progressed, ready for the onslaught of summer, and the heat was heavy around them. Various villagers greeted him as he passed, all curious to know the identity of his Minder. To his credit, Lee took it all in his stride, grinning widely at everyone he met and conversing with whoever chose to speak. The conversations were along the same tangent: _how was Konoha? How was the move? Was he enjoying Suna?_

Gaara found the questions to be bordering on tedious by the sixth or seventh time, but he channeled the patience he had found as Kazekage and let Lee take the lead. After a short reprieve, Gaara watched as a trio of genin bowed to him before approaching Lee and pointing at his Konoha _hitai-ate_ where it was tied around his waist.

“Sir, what’s Konoha like?” the smallest asked.

“Much cooler than here!” Lee answered, crouching down to her level. “Suna is very hot. And sandy!”

The girl’s cheeks dimpled. “Do you miss your home?”

“ _Mami_ ,” the only boy of the group interrupted in a tone that reminded Gaara of Sasuke. “Don’t ask the man silly questions. He’s got important business to do!”

At this, Lee, gave them both one of his Nice Guy smiles. “What’s your name?”

“Jin Hikari, sir,” the boy said, puffing his chest out. “This is my twin sister, Mami.” As if he had suddenly remembered his other teammate, he gestured to the other girl, saying, “And this is Aki.”

“Well,” Lee said, looking all three of them up and down. “To answer your question, Mami, yes, I do miss Konoha. But my home is here now. And meeting you three today has made me miss Konoha a little less.”

“Really?” Mami said, dimples deepening even further.

“Yes, really!” Lee confirmed. “You remind me of my own genin team.” His gaze focused on Hikari. “Don’t be afraid to approach us jōnin, okay? We were all in your shoes once! We are here to help.”

“Yes, sir,” Hikari said, eyes widening at the display of kindness.

Gaara’s heart was soft as he watched Lee teach them how to do his Nice Guy pose, before the trio ran off, no doubt to complete their mission. Lee fell into step with him, chuckling about their antics.

_That was sweet of you_ , Gaara thought. He didn’t voice it though, choosing to say, “What did you think last night?”

He was talking about the banquet, but also, he supposed, how they had slept in the same bed. He figured the question was vague enough to cover both options.

“I enjoyed it a lot,” Lee grinned. “Everyone was very kind.”

Gaara nodded. “Good. That’s…good.”

Lee didn’t talk about their night together, which was fine. Without the alcohol, Gaara also wasn’t brave enough. He wasn’t going to condemn Lee for a shared reticence.

“Temari was right. It went a lot better than any of us could have hoped.”

“I’m glad,” Lee said. “I was preparing to run laps around Konoha had I failed!”

Gaara paused, seeking out Lee’s gaze. “Failed? Lee, you are very likeable. I was not worried about your performance at all.”

That lovely flush was back, coloring Lee’s cheeks. Gaara wanted to hold him close again. He would have, only they were standing in the middle of the street surrounded by Suna villagers.

“Thank you, Gaara. But still! I would have felt _horrible_ if last night had not been successful.”

“Then we can both be relieved that it was,” Gaara decided.

Yūko’s shop was nestled on the opposite end of the Village to the Kazekage Residence, and frequented by Suna’s upper class. Like a geode, from the outside, her shop looked no different to its surrounding vendors, but the inside revealed a hidden treasure trove of high fashion garments.

Gaara pushed the door open, waiting for Lee to join him.

“You said a new uniform, Gaara,” Lee whispered in a slightly panicked tone.

Gaara definitely liked the way his name sounded without the honorific. It felt comfortable. “You _are_ getting a new uniform,” he said, amused. “And several others too, I guess.”

“ _Gaara_ —”

“Welcome, Kazekage-sama,” a cool voice said, its owner emerging from behind a bolt of brocade. “I haven’t the pleasure of seeing you in a long while.”

“Yūko,” Gaara inclined his head towards her. “It is good to see you again. I have to thank you for your latest works; they were perfect, as normal.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Aka,” Yūko chuckled, reverting back to what she had always called him now that the correct formalities were out the way. “How were they really?”

“I wasn’t lying,” Gaara said. “They really were a dream. Temari mentioned she’d only given you the measurements two weeks beforehand.”

“I am pleased to have met your request so well, then, Aka,” Yūko bowed. “How may I be of service this time?”

Gaara gestured to Lee, who had been standing off to the side, clearly uncomfortable. “Yūko, this is my Minder, Rock Lee. He needs a new uniform.”

Yūko’s eyes lit up as Lee came forward, skimming over his form. Gaara could see her doing measurements in her head as the raven greeted her and bowed.

“Very Konoha-esque, no?” Yūko said, holding her hands up to Lee’s shoulders. “Shall I make it more palatable for those old ones on your council?”

Gaara smirked. “If you could.”

Yuko’s eyes glittered. “Of _course_ I can. How many?”

In the end, they agreed on five uniforms in a color palette that would blend in more readily with Suna’s earthy tones, and then Yūko directed a protesting Lee to have his measurements done by one of her assistants.

“Just go with it,” Gaara encouraged.

“But I don’t need _five_ ,” Lee said, thoroughly flustered.

Gaara caught his hand, imploring. “I know you don’t, but will you let me?”

Perhaps Lee saw the same vulnerability in Gaara’s eyes from last night. Perhaps he didn’t want to embarrass him by rejecting the offer. Either way, Lee stopped fussing and went readily, disappearing into a cubicle.

When Gaara turned to Yūko again, she was regarding him with a certain wisdom. “He has a strong heart, doesn’t he, Aka?”

Gaara sifted through her words, searching for any clue of a hidden agenda and finding none. He was not nearly as proficient with wordplay as Temari.

“Yes, he does.”

“Would you like me to make him anything else?”

“Actually, yes,” Gaara started, shy. “His robes from last night. I already said they were very—” _Gods, don’t say_ amazing— “—amenable. Perhaps something along the lines of that? I anticipate a fair amount of events in the next few months whilst the storm of the Sealings settles down.”

Yūko clicked her tongue, always one for a challenge. “You spoil me by giving me free rein, Aka. Any specifics?”

Gaara thought for a moment, then shook his head. He trusted her judgement. “No, Yūko. You’ve never done wrong before.”

Another long appraisal. “He means a lot to you. I can see it in your eyes.”

As a reflex, Gaara glanced away. Then he recalled himself and met her gaze, choosing his words carefully. “He’s been a figure of solidarity this entire time. Up until and after the sealing ceremony. Before I was Kazekage, even. I can never repay him for any of that.”

His sand didn’t allow contact, something Yūko was very familiar with, given her constant battle to take his measurements throughout the years, but she reached out anyway, meeting the shield over his arm.

“Love is always bestowed as a gift, Aka. We give it freely, willingly, without expectation for reciprocation.” She said her next words gently, as if to keep from scaring him away: “We do not love to be loved; we love, to love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Aka - 'red'
> 
> 2\. Yūko's words are a remixed quote by Leo Buscaglia - 'Love is always bestowed as a gift - freely, willingly and without expectation. We don't love to be loved; we love to love.'


	12. Trust Pt. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slow progress is still progress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A much more timely update for y'all. I say it a lot, but thanks so much for the feedback. I want to bake brownies for each and every one of you, but a) I would probably run out of ingredients and b) my oven would die from the labour. So I'll leave you with this: I appreciate you all so very much.

Yūko’s words stuck with Gaara for the rest of the day.

 _We love, to love_.

Such a multifaceted notion. Almost too wonderful to be true.

Despite his misgivings, Yūko had been right about Lee meaning a lot to Gaara. There was _something_ there; to ignore its existence wasn’t being humble, it was being stupid. Somewhere along the line, the dynamic between Lee and Gaara had changed, enough for Lee to regard him on the same level as Neji and Tenten, enough for Lee to finally refer to him informally.

Gaara was still caught up reminiscing about last night; of how Lee had been so welcoming to the gentle touches and kisses. It was more than he could ever have hoped for—for Lee to allow Gaara to hold him the entire night, to run hands through his hair, to fall asleep so willingly.

Half of Gaara was reeling at the raven’s trust, and the other half was embarrassed at the amount of confidence he’d felt from the alcohol. They hadn’t talked in the morning because Gaara had needed to check in with Temari before breakfast to make sure their guests had been taken care of. He almost didn’t want to talk about it though, afraid that doing so would ruin it; bring his feelings into the limelight to be inspected and critiqued and ridiculed.

It didn’t stop him from thinking about it though. There were certain moments he thought of repeatedly, like how Lee had stopped him from leaving, and how Lee had said ‘Love’ was his favorite word, and it took a considerable amount of effort to stop smiling at them.

It was during one of those moments in his office that his sister found him.

“What are you so chirpy about?” She asked, incredulous. “This is the first time I’ve seen you smile since Naruto returned to Konoha.”

“Nothing,” Gaara lied.

Temari glanced slyly at him, and wisely kept her mouth shut. She must have known though. Gaara felt like his affections were written all over his face.

“Very well then, brother. I’m here to ask how this morning went.”

“Good, I think. You know Lee. A bundle of sunlight.” Gaara winced, knowing he was verging on poetry.

“If you insist,” Temari teased. “Any negative interactions?”

“You make him sound like a lab rat.”

“Perhaps he is,” Temari said airily. “I kid. I just want to make sure we—”

“Don’t lose the momentum,” Gaara finished off for her. “I know.”

They paused, and then Temari’s eyes were mischievous as she asked, “What did Yūko think of him?”

Gaara stared out the window for a moment, eventually saying, “She said he had a strong heart.”

“That sounds like her,” Temari mused. “She’s right. He’s a good person.”

“Yes.”

“Did she say anything else?”

Gaara shrugged instead of answering, which his sister saw right through.

“Of course she did. Well cough up, then.”

“Maybe later,” Gaara evaded. “I have a lot of paperwork.”

“Coward,” Temari said. “I’ll get it out of you sometime.”

“Don’t be so sure of yourself.”

“Brother, when have I ever gone down without a fight?”

“Very true.” Gaara eyed the stack of papers he had to sort through. “Whilst you’re here though, do you feel like walking me through your last report from Konoha? We didn’t get to at the last meeting with the council.”

“Sure,” Temari agreed, sliding into the chair opposite and rifling through the paperwork. “So, how many uniforms did you decide on?”

Gaara looked at her, amused. “If this is your attempt at being subtle, you’re not doing a very good job of it, sister.”

Temari’s laugh was sudden and unexpected. “Give me some credit here. I’m actually interested.”

“Sure. But I got him five.”

“Only five?” Temari repeated, finding the report she was after and thumbing the pages. “He didn’t want more?”

“He only wanted one, actually. I had to ask to get him more.”

“How sweet,” Temari said, ever the snob. “Tell me you got him a decent wardrobe as well though. I was lucky enough to get those measurements to Yūko when we were in Konoha for his banquet outfit.”

“He looked really good,” Gaara blurted out, before realizing what he’d said and snapping his mouth shut.

It was too late though. The Sand Siblings were great at exploiting weaknesses, and his sister was the best of them all.

“Gaara,” she said gleefully. “You’re blushing.”

“Report, Temari,” Gaara reminded.

Temari rolled her eyes at him. “Wardrobe. Did you get him anything else?”

“I left it all in Yūko’s hands. She’s in charge of it.”

“Wonderful. That’s probably your brightest decision yet.”

“Don’t hold back,” Gaara grumbled. “And you’re supposed to be deciphering your report for us.”

“Forgive me for wanting to bond with my brother.”

“Humiliate,” Gaara corrected.

“Tease,” Temari insisted. “We said we’d work together on this.”

“We did.” Gaara sighed, rubbing his temple. “Kankurō was right. I want a holiday too.”

“After the Summit would be an alright time. When you’ve proved everything is running smoothly and Suna is reassured it won’t internally combust.” Temari clicked her tongue, reading the first page of her report. “I think that’s been one of the most frustrating things for me; all the reassuring we’ve had to do. Putting out fires. It’s not like you didn’t have the One-Tail before.”

“Fear is very effective.”

“Yes.” Temari finished the first page and was halfway through the second before she spoke up again. “How’s the seal?”

Gaara touched his chest where the seal was healing. “It aches. It’s not painful, per se, but it’s uncomfortable.” He wondered if he should tell her about the black tar on Shukaku’s bars, and then decided he’d talk to Naruto about it first before anyone else.

“You said you lost something. Any thoughts about what it was?”

Gaara shook his head. “I’d kind of been ignoring it.”

“Gaara,” Temari admonished gently.

So much like a mother, Gaara thought. Then he realized this was the longest conversation he’d had with his sister since his Sealing Ceremony. He’d always found it easier to confide in Kankurō because they were far less adept at the nuances of conversation than their sister.

“Thank you,” he said suddenly.

“For what?”

“Caring.”

Temari looked very pleased. “Thank you for trusting me.”

As she began to walk him through the report, Gaara thought of what his brother had said:

_‘Let us help. Even if that’s just this: sitting on a sparring ground and talking about Lee.’_

Talking, he was beginning to see, was its own sort of therapy.

 

 

 

Temari swanned off mid-afternoon to track down Kankurō to spar with, leaving Gaara on his own to fend off some of his other responsibilities. It was shaping up to be a busy month, and Gaara wanted to put aside as much of the tedious housekeeping as possible. There was a fair few events to get through before their return to Konoha, including press conferences for Lee, and Kankurō’s Kugutsutsukai Fundraising Gala.

Gaara definitely wanted that holiday.

Later on, Lee came by his office, dressed in a black jumpsuit. “Afternoon, Gaara.”

“Hey,” Gaara said, looking up from the abandoned second paragraph of his report for the Sealing summit. “Black? You look nice.”

Lee’s smile could only be described as shy, and it reflected how Gaara felt. He wondered if he would ever be able to compliment the raven without turning the shade of his hair.

“Spar with me?” Lee said. “Temari says you’ve been here since this morning.”

“Certainly not my longest day,” Gaara said sheepishly.

“No, but sitting down this long won’t do anything for your muscle tone. Come spar.”

Gaara hesitated. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“And I’m going to repeat what you told me yesterday and say, ‘I think it is’.”

 _Was it only yesterday?_ The day had been long.

To deny Lee outright was unfair, not only because he had a valid point, but also because regardless of Yūko’s revelations, Gaara still felt like he owed the raven. Thus, defeated on both sides, Gaara decided to go along with it.

It still wasn’t a good idea.

Fifteen minutes later, they were standing in the middle of the main sparring grounds. Temari and Kankurō’s training from earlier was evident in the fresh scour marks in the earth and the first line of surrounding trees that had lost their foliage.

Lee tightened his wraps, glancing at Gaara as he did so. “You alright?”

Gaara opened his mouth to answer, then shut it. “Lee, we haven’t sparred since…”

Gods, he couldn’t even say it.

Lee nodded. “You know I trust you.”

“ _Lee_.”

“And you know what Guy-sensei would say here? He would say that if you want to be free from your suffering, make up your mind.”

Gaara bristled at that. “Lee, last time we sparred, I almost killed you.”

“You actually only crushed my arm and leg—”

“What about at the hospital?”

“—and I said I _trust_ you!” Lee returned, brilliant and blinding. “Trust _me_ , okay?”

“Again, you’re not the person I’m mistrustful of—”

Lee came over, grabbing Gaara’s hands and folding them over his heart. “Gaara. I swore an oath to you. We are bound in blood. There is no way you could harm me.”

“Not anymore.”

Lee rolled his eyes. “Trust me. Trust _yourself_.”

He kept eye contact with Gaara, encouraging, reassuring. Gaara’s pulse roared in his ears, far quicker than the beat of Lee’s heart beneath his hands. Yūko’s words resurfaced with a new sense of vigor.

_We love, to love._

Lee squeezed his hands gently. “Now get into position. Our youth is slipping away as we speak.”

“I hardly think it’s _that_ rapid,” Gaara grumbled, but he trudged over to the middle of the grounds, reaching out to his bijū.

 _Shukaku,_ please _don’t let me kill him_.

Shukaku, never one to sympathize, must have been having a good day, because he answered in an only a slightly-disgruntled tone, saying, _yeah, as if either of us would let that happen._

Gaara rolled his eyes, swallowing past the rising dread in his throat. He couldn’t fuck this up.

 _Hey, kid,_ Shukaku said, concern threading each word. _It’ll be alright. We work much better as a team than alone._

 _You haven’t even given me full control,_ Gaara pointed out. _Only like, two thirds. Naruto and Kurama have figured out their differences._

 _Don’t compare me to him,_ Shukaku complained. _That’s a low blow._

 _Yeah, it was,_ Gaara admitted. _Sorry. I just don’t want to hurt Lee again_.

 _And you’re not going to._ We’re _not going to. And if either of us fail, then your lovely seal will kick in and stop you. So quit your whining and show your man your best moves_.

Gaara winced. _Why did you have to add that?_

 _Which part?_ Shukaku laughed.

 _All of it,_ Gaara said and he cursed his bijū, before focusing on Lee, who had just finished wrapping his hand.

“Ready?”

Gaara nodded reluctantly, hiking his gourd further up on his back. Anxiety gnawed away at him, but he had no time for it. “Yes?”

Lee grinned then, almost as a warning, and then he was advancing. Gaara called forth his sand, ready as he’d ever be.

Lee was _fast_. He circled Gaara, testing the extent of the sand shield. Gaara spread his stance, trying his best to keep his eyes trained on Lee. The jōnin moved quickly, striking out. His open hand came first, meeting sand, and then his foot was following. It was barely stopped from striking Gaara’s forehead, and Gaara leapt out the way. The third strike would have met its mark.

He slammed his hands into the earth, feeling out the grains of sand and using them to raise platforms. The sparring pit transformed between Lee and him, and Lee smiled at him.

“Show off,” he called out from the platform he stood on.

Gaara stuck his tongue out childishly.

The raised surfaces meant Lee was slower in his approach, but not by much. He wasted no time jumping from platform to platform, and Gaara had a hard time keeping the distance between them. Speed was not his forte, especially compared to Lee.

“Take the weights off,” Gaara half-suggested, half-directed.

They both knew it was pointless not to; Gaara’s Sand Shield was impenetrable otherwise. If they wanted a fair fight, it would have to be without Lee’s legwarmers.

Lee shrugged, following Gaara’s train of thought. “Or we could just train with taijutsu. No ninjutsu or genjutsu. You said it yourself. It’s your weakest form.”

Gaara let the sparring ground level itself and took off his gourd. “Why didn’t you say that when we started then?”

This time, Lee’s grin was a warning. Gaara barely blinked before Lee was in front of him. He threw his whole body at Gaara, meeting the Sand Shield. A fist struck out, blocked by Gaara’s forearm. Another fist, the other forearm. Then Gaara’s head was being twisted to the side, reeling from the impact of Lee’s kick.

 _Kami_. That fucking hurt.

Acting on reflex, he sent out his sand hurtling into Lee’s chest.

Lee caught it full on and was set back several meters, exclaiming, “Hey! We said taijutsu!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Gaara apologized, sliding his feet into a defensive stance once more. “Didn’t mean to.”

Lee huffed, coming forward again. Gaara met the first punch, ducked under the next and just evaded the third move: a very nice roundhouse kick that spoke volumes of Lee’s prowess with taijutsu.

He wasn’t fast enough for the next one though, catching it to the side of his ribs. Pain lanced through his side; Lee was not only fast, but strong as well. Gaara reached out and blocked the raven’s next strike, then let himself spin into a kick aimed at Lee’s knee.

Lee dodged it effortlessly, clasping a hand over the Shield over Gaara’s shoulder and using it for leverage to slam his palm into Gaara’s chest. The action sent Gaara flying and he had no time to land on his feet, instead sprawling onto the ground.

Lee flipped over to him, dragging him up to stand.

“Now we are even,” Lee said, eyes twinkling.

His smile was all over his face, and Gaara gave him one in response, tilting his head back, already tired. Lee touched Gaara’s lip gingerly in apology, before wrapping an arm around Gaara’s waist and butting his head against Gaara’s cheek.

“Maybe we should work on some basic techniques first,” he suggested. “Then spar properly.”

Gaara chuckled, breathless from the sparring, from the affection soaring within his ribcage. “You think?”

Lee’s laugh was contagious. They watched sundown together, holding each other, content.

 

[here](https://mangahelpers.com/forum/threads/the-naruto-fanart-thread.21297/page-3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I'm still figuring out how to hyperlink in the notes boxes, but Lee's outfit in this chapter is inspired by Mikutashi's art here: http://fav.me/drefn1
> 
> 2\. Might Guy's quote in full: 'If you want to be free from your suffering, make up your mind. If you give up on your dream, you will suffer more.'


	13. Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night of Kankurō's Puppetry Gala arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know how long this chapter took to come about and I'm sorry for it. Again. (But seriously thank you for your patience)

“Gaara, for the love of all the gods, would you _please_ go and get ready?”

Gaara looked up to find his sister akimbo, flanked by her maid and another who had clearly been in the middle of attacking Temari’s hair.

“Well?”

Gaara frowned. “What are you doing here? _You_ should be getting ready.”

Temari’s frustration was just about palpable. “I _am_ getting ready. Do us a favor and get ready yourself. Kankurō is already halfway through his first bottle of sake. The last thing we need on top of his premature inebriation is your tardiness.”

“I’m waiting for Naruto.”

“Yes, yes,” his sister clicked her tongue. “You’ve said that for the last two hours. But I’ve sent a very agitated Nobu to your quarters already.”

“He can dress Lee first.”

By some miracle, Temari’s annoyance levels increased even further. “ _Gaara,_ I swear you’re getting dementia. Lee’s with that genin team at the sparring grounds until four, remember? He’ll be tended to when he returns.”

Ah, yes, Nomura Riko’s genin. It had been almost fateful, how the genin who had greeted Lee in the streets were her students. Two days later, Riko herself had requested an audience with Gaara to reaffirm her interest in learning from Lee.

“That was your team?” Gaara had said when he found out, fighting very hard to keep the jealousy from his tone.

“Yes, Kazekage-sama. Nomura Aki, my niece, and the Jin twins, the top three of their class. I was hoping Lee would lend his taijutsu knowledge to them.”

Never mind that she had originally asked for Lee’s tutelage for her clan; Riko had smiled so sweetly at Gaara that the guilt had followed him for days after.

Gaara wrinkled his nose. “I still want to wait for Naruto.”

Temari shook her head. “No, your friend is running late. We don’t need you to join him. Have him sent to your wing when he arrives.”

Unwilling to provoke her further, Gaara acquiesced.

Nobu had already laid out Gaara’s outfit for the night and was upon him as soon as he opened the door. “Kazekage-sama, thank gods. I was becoming worried.”

“Sorry,” Gaara mumbled, beginning to strip out of his clothes. “I was waiting for Naruto, but he’s running late.”

“We all are,” Nobu agreed, taking Gaara’s blazer. “Does Lee-sama know what time he is supposed to return?”

“Pretty sure he is,” Gaara said, attempting to soothe his valet. “He’s with Riko until four.”

“Enough time, hopefully,” Nobu said, catching Gaara’s shirt. “Will Riko be attending the gala tonight?”

Gaara soured at that reminder. “Yes, I think she is.”

Before Nobu could offer any more commentary on the Nomura clanswoman, the door burst open to reveal a travel-weary and dusty Naruto.

“Gaara!” the blond crowed, striding across the room.

“Naruto,” Gaara greeted happily, surrendering to the hug the blond swept him up into. “Hello, friend.”

“Hey, you,” Naruto said back, not caring about the dirt and grime he was depositing everywhere. “I’m so sorry I’m late. We got held back by a dust storm for _ages_ and then had to hightail it here and it was a nightmare.”

“I gathered,” Gaara said, eyeing the blond’s form. “I’m glad you’re here though. Where is Sasuke?”

Naruto jerked a thumb towards the door. “Already in our own room. He wanted to shower straight away but I had to see you first.”

Gaara’s heart warmed. “I missed you.”

“And I missed you,” Naruto laughed, wrapping Gaara into another hug. “Man, I’ve got so much to tell you. I did a lot of research on our seals right? And some of the shit I uncovered is insane. The branch of fūinjutsu they used—”

“Naruto, I really want to chat,” Gaara said hastily, remembering Nobu still had Lee to dress after him. “But it’s going to have to wait until after tonight, otherwise my sister will kill us both.”

“Alright, alright,” Naruto nodded. “But seriously! Have to talk. It’s big stuff. _Huge_.”

“I believe you,” Gaara grinned, shoving him out the door. “Now _go_.”

 

 

 

It had been a strange couple of weeks, wherein they had settled into a sort of routine.

Lee would begin his mornings running laps around the Village as the sun began its ascent into the sky. Gaara didn’t consider himself very humane until midday, so he never joined when the raven asked, instead meeting Lee at the dining table.

Breakfast passed in a myriad of conversations and grumblings between his siblings and Lee, after which Gaara disappeared into his office to deal with the multiple assignments and reports and meetings the council and Suna decided to throw at him.

During these hours, Lee was free to come and go as he pleased within the Kazekage residence, but he had helped Gaara sort through the boxes of paperwork a couple of times; there was something about Lee’s casual company that made the snakes in Gaara’s belly settle into coils, warm and heavy.

Those few days of Lee accompanying Gaara had led to them sitting in the palatial gardens for luncheon. Suna’s midday sun was unforgiving, reinforced by the seasonal shift to Summer, and Gaara knew better than to try to fight the heat. Instead, he would watch, mesmerized, as Lee sat amongst the coolth, head tipped towards the sunlight filtering through the trees.

It just seemed so easy.

Most days though, they didn’t spend much time together at all. Lee had taken quite a shine to Riko’s genin—and her, Gaara noted grumpily—so he passed the time training them in the palatial sparring grounds. Gaara never went to watch, struggling with the poisonous weeds of jealousy and longing in his chest. Besides, Lee deserved as much of his own life as he could, without Gaara interfering and asking for even more.

And anyway, the days always ended the same. Dinner would be a repeat of the first meal, punctuated by Lee’s laughter and Kankurō’s terrible jokes and Temari’s frequent reminders of the next day’s events, and then Gaara and Lee would walk back to their Wings and bid each other goodnight.

Gaara coveted that time, because it meant he had Lee’s company all to himself, but it never developed further than small talk about the day. After their night together, Gaara had never found an excuse that seemed plausible enough to neutrally invite Lee to his, so it had not happened again. It was alright though, because Lee was settling in, and he seemed happy, and that was Gaara’s priority.

And so far, that was their forever.

 

 

 

The maroon coat Yūko had made for this event was a work of art, and it fit snugly around Gaara’s shoulders, sweeping the floor with every movement he made. A bold statement piece, it overlaid a plain white shirt, the high collar of which was dangerously close to reminding Gaara of his sealing kimono with how tight it was. He shuddered, willing his mind to focus on something less dreadful.

Tonight was about Kankurō.

He hoped his brother wasn’t too far into his sake; nerves made most people do stupid things, but if drinking was a sport, Kankurō always tried for first place, and he had no excuse to hold back now thanks to the gala being his event.

Gaara rubbed his nose, wondering how Naruto was getting on, before heading to Lee’s to check on his progress. He was halfway through wandering into the raven’s suite, intent on taking over one of the couches, when he saw Nobu brushing down Lee and stopped.

_Gods_. He looked amazing.

“Hey,” Lee called out, preoccupied with frowning at himself in the mirror.

Gaara was immensely grateful because it meant he could look and appreciate unabashedly. The raven was layered in a two-piece forest green suit, over which was a floor-length cape. Its silver detailing matched the gold patterns on Gaara. Yūko—always one to stir the pot—had made their outfits complement each other, and she had done very, _very_ well.

“Lee,” Gaara stammered when his tongue finally decided to cooperate again. “You look great.”

Lee turned to face him, and Gaara’s self-control faltered even further. When they swam together, Lee’s hair had been sleek and dripped water onto both of them. Their journey to Suna had caused Lee’s hair to become windswept and dusty. Today, Nobu had simply mussed up Lee’s hair, and it shouldn’t have been attractive, being messy and disheveled and falling into his eyes just so, but it was—oh, how it _was_ —because it just made Gaara want to run his hands through it.

Gaara noticed Lee had stopped too. His eyes, following the stage performer theme, were colored with green that glittered in the afternoon light, and they were flitting over Gaara in a way that Gaara figured was very much like the way he had. The intensity of his gaze made Gaara feel warm.

“So do you,” Lee said, hushed, and it wasn’t a Nice Guy Smile he gave Gaara; it was one of his shy ones, the ones that always made Gaara forget how to breathe for a bit.

Today was no exception. Gaara couldn’t stop staring—at Lee’s outfit, at Lee’s arms, at Lee’s _mouth,_ gods—and Lee didn’t help by staying silent, either.

Gaara could have passed it off as a stilted exchange of compliments between two people still learning the nuances of their friendship, except then he made the mistake of making eye contact with Lee. What he saw was definitely not due to an awkward friendship; no, that was how Gaara felt: _hungry_.

_Oh, no_ , he thought.

They stared at each other, caught out. The moment hung between them, heavy with promise.

And then it snapped, thanks to Nobu asking Lee which cufflinks he would rather. Gaara glanced away, tugging at his collar, far too hot. Then he followed his original plan and sat on the couch, afraid of screwing up any further.

 

 

 

In spite of Temari’s misgivings, they made the gala with plenty of time to spare for the red carpet. Kankurō went first, being the driving force behind the event, and Gaara watched, something like pride in his chest.

Temari swept past him next in a black gown with a slit up to her thigh that Gaara decided Shikamaru would have liked very much, and she handled the cameras with all the finesse of a seasoned socialite.

Gaara was not nearly as capable, but there was no escaping the media, especially considering it was the inaugural Puppetry gala and puppetry was the second largest faction in Suna’s shinobi. The assistant in charge of the red carpet nodded at him when it was his time to step forward, and then motioned for Lee to follow as well.

It made sense. They were a team now. Public appearances involved each other by default.

Still, it was _wonderful_ , the way Lee lined their sides up and placed his hand on Gaara’s shoulder. Gaara rested his hand on Lee’s waist, reminded viscerally of their embrace after the welcoming banquet.

“I hate red carpets,” Gaara mumbled to try and distract himself from the desire to sweep Lee into his arms.

“You’re doing great,” Lee beamed, meeting his eyes for the first time since earlier.

That same heat was still there, Gaara realized with a jolt, and he glanced away quickly, afraid. “Yes, so are you.”

If Lee was bothered by any of it, he didn’t show it as they endured the cameras for a further few minutes before being ushered away into the venue with his siblings.

Champagne flutes glittered and twinkled as they were passed around, and Temari snagged two for herself, claiming she deserved them after the harrowing afternoon the boys had put her through.  Kankurō laughed, buoyed by the two bottles of sake he’d had to himself back home, and said some comment about putting up with her nagging for so long until he was drawn away to greet people.

Temari drained her first glass in one gulp, holding one out to Lee.

“Oh, I don’t drink, Temari-san.”

“So you keep saying,” she said, unimpressed. “I’ll just have to drink for you. Tell me, where is your training partner this evening?”

Gaara shot her a warning look, but the two of them remained oblivious as Lee searched the crowd. Gaara knew the exact moment he found her, because his eyes lit up and he was hastily excusing himself to meet her.

“Of course we don’t mind,” Temari said when Lee apologized for ditching them, and her smile was toothy as anything. “I’d love to chat to her sometime tonight.”

Lee’s smile matched hers and he nodded in agreement before bounding over to Riko. Gaara watched him go, ignoring the jealously pulling at his chest.

When they were alone, Temari turned to Gaara. “Now where on earth is Naruto and his boyfriend?”

“Partner,” Gaara corrected.

“ _Whatever_ ,” Temari rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows what they are. But seriously, where are they? Being late to Suna is one thing, but being late to this gala is another thing entirely. We’re lucky we made it on time.”

“I wish you’d stop worrying,” Gaara said, irritated.

“And I wish you’d stop being such a sourpuss, but we both know that isn’t going to happen.”

Gaara sighed, accepting the drink Temari pressed into his hands. “I’m _trying_.”

“I know,” Temari said sympathetically.

They both watched as Lee chatted animatedly with Riko. Light bounced off the two of them, making the dark red gown Riko wore sparkle. Gaara gulped his way through a second glass, just about sick with envy when Lee laughed at something Riko had said.

“I feel pathetic,” he complained, and Temari shrugged.

“It’s normal, as much as it sucks. I had to fight a lot of insecurity about Shikamaru’s first girlfriend.”

“Yamanaka Ino? Why?”

Temari shrugged. “Jealousy is a stupid thing, Gaara. She’s blonde and blue-eyed and pretty. I just had to remind myself that Shikamaru chose me to be with now. The past is in the past.”

“Easy for you to say,” Gaara grumbled. “I’m not even with Lee. I’m just stuck with a stupid crush.”

Temari’s eyes softened. “Don’t be so sure of that, brother.”

Gaara went to answer, to protest at how she was missing the point, but he never got to finish his sentence because Naruto joined them, along with Sasuke. Gaara had no idea how Naruto always managed to find orange clothing, but he’d succeeded once again. Sasuke was subtler in an Uchiha-blue suit.

“Finally!” Temari said. “You’re here.”

“Hey, Temari,” Naruto said and kissed her cheek in both greeting and apology, whilst Sasuke gave her a respectful nod.

“Sasuke,” Temari nodded back, looking between the three of them and obviously deciding that she wanted to be elsewhere. “Gaara, I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to chat to Riko and your partner before we have to sit down. I’ll leave you to it.”

She sauntered off, spiky hair cutting a path through the crowd until she reached her destination. Gaara could feel Naruto watching him look at the three of them, but the blond said nothing until Sasuke, who looked like he would rather be anywhere but here, excused himself to go to the bar.

Then he pounced. “So who’s Riko?”

Gaara made a face, hating how transparent his feelings were. “Nomura Riko. Lee’s training partner. He’s helping her train a genin team.”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Naruto cooed. “Have you told him yet?”

Gaara stared at the blond. “Told him what?”

“Your obvious feelings for him,” Naruto said sarcastically. “Just ask him _out,_ Gaara. Everyone can see how much you like him.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Of course not,” Naruto simpered. “No, you’d rather submit yourself to a lifetime of pining rather than realizing that Lee likes you back.”

“He doesn’t like me,” Gaara frowned. “I’m pretty sure he likes Riko.”

“Yeah, and I’m the next Kazekage,” Naruto deadpanned. “You’re being an idiot.”

Gaara ignored the hope sprouting in his chest from the blond’s words. “Only you can call me that.”

“I know,” Naruto said loftily. “But you should give it a go, y’know? Shoot your shot!”

Gaara made a frustrated sound. “Why? Why ruin what we already have? Gods, we barely spend time with each other anyway.”

“What?” Naruto said, surprised. “But you live together. Sasuke and I are basically inseparable.”

“That’s hardly anything new,” Gaara grumbled. “But you two are different. I’ve got Kazekage business all day and Lee spends his days with Riko and the kids.”

“Ah, don’t say that,” Naruto said, wrinkling his nose. “It makes them sound like a happy family.”

“They basically are.”

Naruto flicked his forehead. “Stop that. They’re so not. Ask the poor guy out. I’ve only been here what, five minutes? He’s been shooting heart eyes at you the entire time.”

“No he hasn’t.”

Naruto groaned loudly. “I love you, Gaara, but you’re pissing me off. You mean to tell me you’ve lived with Lee for a month now and you haven’t even held hands?”

“Hey,” Gaara protested. “We’ve held hands.” He hid his face in his glass. “We actually shared a bed.”

Naruto was gaping like a fish. “Oh my gods, how can you not think he likes you?”

“Riko?” Gaara said weakly.

Naruto’s laughter was a melodious thing. “Gaara,” he singsonged. “I’m glad Sasuke isn’t here with us. He would be laughing his head off.”

“Sasuke laughs?” Gaara sniped. “Speaking of which, how are you two?”

“Nice change of topic there,” Naruto said. “But, we’re good? I don’t know, Gaara. Home hasn’t quite settled back to normal yet.”

“Are you working, at least?”

Naruto nodded. “Yeah, we’ve been on a few missions. Baa-chan is being super helpful about the entire thing, keeping us busy. And things have quietened down since the Sealings.”

“Just need to wait until the Summit, I guess.”

“Yeah, speaking of that,” Naruto said. “I found a few things when I was researching that probably need bringing up at the Summit.”

Gaara perked up at the mention of their previous conversation. “Is it very important?”

Naruto made a face. “I’m not entirely sure, but your brother probably wouldn’t appreciate if we left his gala before it had a chance to start. We’ll talk about it later. For now though,” Naruto said, fishing two glasses from a passing waiter’s tray. “We need to see what we can do about you two sharing a bed again.”

“Keep your voice down,” Gaara hissed.

Naruto’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Relax. No one would know who we were talking about anyway.”

“Naruto—”

“Drink. Alcohol equals confidence equals you talking to Lee.”

“We still need to eat—”

“Bottoms-up, Gaara!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Naruto is a good friend.


	14. Gala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naruto is a bad influence. Gaara is a lightweight. And Lee? Lee is far too nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I'm sorry. Shit happened. I lost motivation for basically everything. But now I'm back. And I hope you like this. Bless y'all.

Listening to Naruto’s plan of certain inebriation had been one thing. Following it through with three shōchū shots and two beers was another thing entirely. And hindsight, like in all cases, was a bitch. Drunk Gaara was becoming a regular occurrence.

“Where’s your man gone?” Naruto said when they had downed their latest beverage: some spiced rum cocktail.

Gaara scanned the crowds of people, finding Riko chatting amongst a bevy of Suna’s Puppetry Elders, sans Lee. “I’m not sure.”

“Well go find him then,” Naruto said, giving him a gentle shove.

Gaara knew better than to argue with his friend, so he did as he was instructed. It was less difficult than he thought to weave through the crowd without being stopped, but he wasn’t so lucky on a few occasions, and so it took the better part of half an hour to make his way from one end of the function to the other. Still no sign of Lee.

There was Temari, charming a trio of jōnin, all of whom were much more preferable than her Konoha suitor. It was no secret that her choice to seek a union outside the Village was largely frowned upon. Suna was paranoid like that.

_And then you got hitched to a Konoha jōnin and furthered the divide_ , Gaara thought wryly.

It was going to be a long uphill battle to make his Village more trusting of the outside world.

He spied his brother Kankurō amongst his kugutsutsukai peers, laughing over a round of beers. His keynote speech had gone well, so celebrations were certainly due. There was still no sign of Lee though.

A quick check of the bathrooms revealed nothing, as did a scout of both bars. For the briefest moment Gaara grew worried, before he almost slapped himself for jumping to conclusions and left the main area to check the gardens.

He found Lee next to one of the pools, facing away from him, staring up at the moon.

“Lee?” Gaara called out, cautious.

The raven turned his head towards Gaara and smiled kindly, like he knew Gaara was concerned. “Hi.”

“Where have you been?” Gaara asked in a hushed voice, stepping closer. “I thought you would be with Riko-san.”

Lee had a funny look on his face. “Why do you think that?”

“Because you like her,” Gaara said, feeling childish.

Lee chuckled, before patting the spot next to him. “Want to sit?”

Gaara did, removing his shoes and rolling his trousers up. Lee’s feet dangled in the water and Gaara copied, shivering at the temperature difference. No conversation formed over their heads, a small blessing after the networking Gaara had endured for the better part of the night, and so they sat in silence, water lapping around their legs.

_So peaceful_ , Gaara thought, staring out into the water, at the fountain in the middle of the pool and the waves it sent outward.

“Are you okay?” Lee said into the silence.

Gaara snorted. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?”

“I don’t know,” Lee shrugged. “It felt like the right thing for me to say.”

Gaara watched the ripples of the water instead of giving Lee the eye contact he deserved, afraid of seeing the same heat from earlier, and at the same time afraid of _not_ seeing it there. “I always feel like I don’t do enough for you.”

Lee touching his hand should have been a surprise, except it wasn’t, because it was _Lee_ , kind, positive Lee who always insisted Gaara was not to blame.

“Don’t say that,” Lee said. “There’s plenty that you do.”

“It’s not enough though,” Gaara said, because Lee needed to know. “It never will be.”

When he looked up, Lee smiled at him, shy and sweet, and laced their fingers together. “It is, Gaara. I swear.”

Gaara’s heart was in his throat, and he kind of wanted to cry. “Did I ever thank you?”

“You did,” Lee said, so so kind.

“Oh.” Gaara ‘s hand was warm in Lee’s. “Well, thank you. Again. You can’t know how much I appreciate you.”

“I think I might have an idea,” Lee said quietly, and when he drew Gaara closer, Gaara went willingly.

Strong arms folded around his shoulders, another embrace from Lee that Gaara both craved and thought he was unworthy of. How calming it was, to be pressed together, breaths synchronizing.

They stayed there, holding onto each other, Gaara’s head on Lee’s shoulder and Lee’s face against his neck. The raven’s cape had slipped off his shoulders slightly to reveal the next layer of clothing, and Gaara smiled wistfully as he toyed with the hem, remembering the times they had swum together in Konoha.

“Lee?” Gaara murmured, not really thinking as he pushed gently at Lee’s jacket collar.

“Yes?” Lee answered, but he made no move to change their position.

Gaara took that as a good sign, and the collar fell away.

“I don’t know,” was all he could say as it did, and then he was pulling Lee’s shirt aside. “I don’t know,” he said again, running his fingers along the raven’s exposed skin.

He could feel Lee’s staccato pulse beneath his fingertips, and thought nothing more as he pressed his mouth to it.

Lee froze.

That made Gaara freeze, because _shit_ , what had he been _thinking_ _—_ but then he looked up into Lee’s eyes, into the same tension from Lee’s bedroom and the red carpet. They were caught out again.

An apology was already bubbling its way onto Gaara’s tongue, full of hurried excuses, except then Lee’s breath came out all at once, a shaky, shuddery sigh. He slowly tipped his head to the side.

An invitation.

Gaara didn’t hesitate then. He sealed his mouth over Lee’s pulse once more and _sucked_ , and Lee’s hands were in his hair, tugging harshly, almost in reprimand, but when Gaara went to draw back, Lee gripped his shoulders to keep him there, and that—

Gaara could do that. He was mindless as he made his way along Lee’s throat, pawing at Lee’s clothing, at all the damned layers, why were there so many—at which point Lee said, “Wait, wait,” and Gaara started worrying all over again but Lee simply freed his arms from his cape and suit jacket and shoved them aside.

“Better?” Lee asked, high and breathless.

_Muchly_ , Gaara thought as he hummed his approval, pressed a kiss to Lee’s neck, and marveled at the blatant trust Lee had in him, because gods knew he didn’t deserve it. They shifted, Lee turning to face him properly, and yes, that’s what Gaara wanted because it meant he could push forward and bite Lee’s jaw.

Lee grabbed at his back and nuzzled his hair, gasping when Gaara’s teeth scraped over the jut of his larynx.

“Should I—?” Gaara started but Lee shushed him.

“Don’t stop,” he said.

So Gaara didn’t. Lee’s hands were in his hair, strong and sure, and Gaara mouthed at the soft skin of Lee’s cheek, wanting so badly to kiss him, because how could he not, it was clear that they were both frighteningly okay with whatever they were currently doing—

—and Lee nodded, bumping their noses together, cheeks red, clearly too shy to bridge the gap.

_Yes, alright, I’ll kiss you first_ , Gaara thought, drunk on the sensations.

A voice called out: “Gaara?”

Gaara wrenched himself away. He barely made it to a more respectable distance from Lee before the owner of the call rounded the corner. It was Temari.

“Ah! There you two are! How fortunate.” She beckoned at them. “Come, come. Riko-san wanted to introduce someone to both of you.”

Gaara just _knew_ he looked guilty, so he didn’t try to say anything. Instead it was Lee who spoke.

“Sounds fantastic!” he said cheerily.

Temari beamed at him, before looking at Gaara quizzically. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Gaara almost squeaked.

Then he stood and followed her with about as much dignity as he could muster.

 

 

 

Five minutes later Lee appeared to be blissfully unaffected, chatting amicably with the person they had been introduced to: Jin Kasumi, the eldest sister of Lee’s two Jin students. Gracefully slender, she was draped in white and all too happy to listen to Lee talk about her siblings’ tutelage.

Meanwhile, Gaara’s heart was about to hammer its way out of his chest, and not in a good way. Because of this, he was busy nursing a highball—that Naruto had oh so helpfully handed to him in passing before swanning off to find his partner—rather than joining in on the conversation.

Riko chose to stand to the side as well, which Gaara struck as a little odd, but also was too scattered to address properly.

He definitely needed this drink.

“You two make a fine team,” he told Riko, more so she wouldn’t think he was rude.

Not that he thought it was untrue. He just wasn’t capable of playing wordsmith at the present moment. _Gods_.

Riko smiled politely. “As I said before, Kazekage-sama, Lee-san is a worthy candidate for you.” She paused then, contemplating her wine glass. “I must thank you for letting me monopolize him so much, though. I know you two are very close.”

Gaara almost choked on his ice cube and saved himself from further embarrassment by hiding it with a cough. “Close?”

Riko flushed a little. “Forgive me if I was mistaken, Kazekage-sama. You’re all Lee talks about. I thought perhaps…” She trailed off, as if she was scared to finish the sentence.

“Oh. No, not really.”

Then he thought back to the two of them a few minutes ago, doing whatever _that_ was, and decided Temari was right whenever she told him he was a terrible liar.

Gaara chewed on the inside of his cheek, wondering if they were both on the same thought tangent. “I actually thought you two were…involved.”

Riko’s laugh was a surprise. “Kazekage-sama, with all respect, I am not interested in Lee for those reasons.”

“Ah,” Gaara said, feeling very stupid. “I do apologize.”

“It’s quite alright.” In that moment, Riko reminded Gaara again of his sister: she was just as fierce as Gaara had originally thought, but she was gentle too. There was a lot of patience in her that Gaara just _knew_ Lee would appreciate greatly.

“Kasumi is my fiancée.”

 

 

 

Gaara was such a fucking idiot.

Truly, he was.

If Riko knew how floored he was by her words, she did not make a show of it, and they sipped their respective beverages in silence before Gaara could take it no longer and tracked down his brother.

Kankurō was far drunker than him, but there was something reassuring about the idea of staying with his brother as he vomited. It meant Gaara was wonderfully distracted. Temari joined them later on when they were outside, trying to sober up. She had clearly tired of flirting with her bevy of admirers, and after a search of the slowing gala, they found Lee.

“Your friends went home,” Temari told Gaara. “Are you coming to the after party?”

Gaara shook his head. He couldn’t think of anything worse. “Gods, no.”

“Alright then. Well, take Kankurō home safely.”

She said it as if Gaara was going to leave him at the gala, but he was too tired to argue.

“I’ll help,” Lee said, slinging Kankurō’s arm over his shoulders and hoisting him up. “Hey, Kankurō, buddy. Let’s get you home.”

Kankurō mumbled something unintelligible and said nothing more for the remainder of their trip home.

They dropped him off in his room wordlessly, and then he and Lee were alone for the daunting walk to their own wings.

_You’re being a coward_ , Shukaku sniped.

Gaara shut him up, but the tension was very present and very threatening, and it did not waver at all the entire way.

A few minutes, or what felt like ten years, later, they arrived.

Lee turned to him with a small smile on his face. “Tonight went well.”

“Yes,” Gaara said, thoroughly out of his depth. “Well.” He swallowed. “I must sleep. Goodnight.”

Lee paused, clearly confused, then slowly bowed his head. “Goodnight, Gaara.”

Too scared to stay and try and stumble his way through an explanation for his—quite frankly—shocking farewell, Gaara _fled_.

He took a rushed sand bath, cursing Shukaku when the tanuki mocked him _again_ for his cowardice, and then spent a noteworthy time staring out to Sunagakure.

It was moonrise, and the Moon shed his light on the sleeping Village generously, swaddling them in silvery hues. Gaara watched, trying to distract himself from the disappointment in himself by remembering the times previously when his destructiveness and blood lust had been worsened by the full moon. It was a lifetime ago; several lifetimes ago.

Now, Shukaku was grumpy, but nowhere near as volatile as he had been. _Would you_ stop _assuming the worst of me?_

_It’s a work in progress_ , Gaara thought grimly.

_Go and cuddle your boyfriend_.

Gaara huffed. _He’s_ not _my boyfriend._

_Yes, I know_ that _. If he was, you wouldn’t be sulking on your balcony. Honestly. The Moon might be out of a job with the amount of mooning_ you _do._

Gaara rolled his eyes. _I almost kissed him_.

_And he was_ so _opposed to it_ , Shukaku said sarcastically. _Now get over to his room, or I’ll make a concerted effort to take over your body tonight_.

Gaara hesitated. _You wouldn’t, would you?_

_Of_ course _I wouldn’t,_ Shukaku grumbled. _Didn’t we just cover that? I was just hoping the threat might make you stop acting like a spineless sap._

Gaara wasn’t a spineless sap.

He stared out onto the Village a little while longer, anxious. Then, unsure if it was more because he wanted to prove Shukaku wrong, or prove to himself that he didn’t always need alcohol to give him courage, he made up his mind.

He was on his feet before he could think too hard about what he was doing, crossing to their adjoining door, and even then, it took him a few false starts before he actually knocked, waiting with bated breath for Lee to answer.

_This is a terrible idea—_

“Come in,” Lee said, muffled from behind the door.

_Fuck_.

There was no backing out now. Lee was already in bed when Gaara opened the door, hair wet from the shower. Something caught in Gaara’s throat, small and vulnerable.

“Is everything alright?” the raven asked.

“Lee,” Gaara said stupidly. “You know I don’t sleep.”

Lee raised a brow. “Yes, I know.”

Gaara fidgeted where he stood in the doorway, regretting his boldness already. “Can…can I stay with you tonight?”

A smile spread across Lee, like a sunrise, and he nodded, holding out the sheets for Gaara. “Of course you can.”

Gaara didn’t wait for the raven to take back his words, crossing the room and crawling under the covers. His feet knocked into Lee’s and the raven chuckled, complaining how cold they were.

“Sorry,” Gaara said, wondering where this easy conversation had come from after the disaster of their goodnight farewell.

Lee shook his head, and this time he was the first to brush their noses together. _Gods_. Then he draped a casual hand across Gaara’s waist. Gaara’s gut reaction was to flinch.

Lee flinched in response, saying, “Sorry,” and withdrawing, and _no_ , that’s not what Gaara wanted—

“No, no, it’s okay,” Gaara assured, walking his fingers around Lee’s hipbone to hold him. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting—”

“It’s okay,” Lee interrupted.

Gaara took stock of the situation, finding their nerves to be slightly ridiculous considering their earlier interaction by the pool, and he laughed. “We’re being stupid,” he pointed out, and Lee chuckled with him.

“Yes, we are, aren’t we?”

Gaara sighed, already feeling the tension bleed out of him. He’d never done any of this before, never shared a bed with someone, never made them laugh at something so trivial. It felt like a gift.

“I’m sorry,” he said, throwing caution to the wind and shuffling closer.

“Me too,” Lee said, gaze warm and wonderful as he bumped their noses together.

Gaara nudged his nose against Lee’s again, closing his eyes. “Goodnight, Lee.”

Lee’s arm settled more snugly around Gaara’s waist. “Goodnight, Gaara.”


	15. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warmth:  
> noun  
>  1\. the quality, state, or sensation of being warm  
>  2\. enthusiasm, affection, or kindness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *emerges after a century*

Dawn was a slow coloring of yellow, pink, and orange. The hues stretched lazily across the sky as the sun crept its way above the horizon, pushing into the corners of the room and falling upon Lee’s sleeping form.

Having done little else aside from bicker with Shukaku during the night, Gaara studied Lee drowsily, watching the fluttering of the raven’s closed eyes and twitch of his mouth. Lee was an uneventful sleeper, and did not stir when Gaara reached up to drift fingers over the raven’s nose, across his cheek, down his neck. The pulse of his throat was steady and soothing, and Gaara kept his finger pressed against it as he listened to the raven breathe.

After so many weeks of very limited contact, having Lee in such close proximity was like welcoming rainfall after a drought. Gaara could still see Naruto’s surprised face from last night when he’d said they had practically nothing to do together apart from walk each other to their rooms at night, but then it was easy for Naruto to judge, given he and Sasuke were already established. Their bond had come from love; his and Lee’s was from obligation.

It was because of this that when they had shared a bed last, Gaara had left before Lee awoke. He had been too frightened of facing Lee in the morning, without the comforting cloak of night or inebriation, and though their interactions afterwards had been pleasant, the two of them had not addressed it since.

All this talk with his siblings about opening up, and he was still a coward.

Lee’s hair was golden again in the sunlight, and Gaara brushed his thumb over the raven’s cheek, startling a little when Lee sighed.

“Hi,” Gaara whispered, unsure of the proper protocol for having someone wake up next to you.

When Lee’s gaze landed on Gaara, he grinned sleepily. “Morning!”

“Morning,” Gaara replied.

Lee stretched himself out, arms reaching above them forever, and then he blinked awake fully. Gaara knew the moment Lee’s memory of last night returned to him, because his eyes widened and he looked at Gaara, bewildered.

“You’re still here,” Lee stated.

“Yes?” Gaara said, suddenly gauche, out of place, _unwanted—_

Except then Lee’s gaze softened. His arm, which hadn’t shifted far from Gaara’s side all night, returned to Gaara’s hipbone, and he squeezed.

Gaara’s mouth fell open on a gasp.

“You’re still here,” Lee repeated, and then he laughed. “Hi!”

Giddiness was contagious, and Gaara smiled back. “Did you sleep alright?”

“I did,” Lee nodded, then yawned loudly. “How was your night?”

“Uneventful.” Gaara fiddled with the blankets, finding particular interest in confirming the thread count. “Did you, uh, have anything on this morning?”

“Nothing apart from a run,” Lee shook his head. “Why?”

Had to be a least eight hundred. “Well I thought…I just wanted to show you something.” 

 

 

Not many people went to the Southern Wings anymore. Temari and Kankurō resided in the East, where they enjoyed the morning sun. In contrast, Gaara and Lee’s quarters were to the West, where they got the beauty of the sunset. The Northern Wings were where the majority of activity happened during the day, so there was little need to visit the South.

It was here that Gaara took Lee. The quietude of the South was the reason Gaara had chosen it for his commission, and it had been completed just two days previously. It seemed opportunistic to show Lee what he had installed for him.

When Lee saw the pool, he turned to Gaara, eyes sparkling. “Since when was this here?”

“Since I had it built,” Gaara said, shy again. “I cannot live in Konoha, but I thought perhaps I could bring a piece of it here—Lee, what’s wrong?”

Lee’s eyes were welling up with tears and he pulled Gaara into a hug. He really was far more emotional than Gaara.

“Nothing is wrong!” Lee sniffled into his shirt collar. “It’s wonderful. Thank you!”

“It’s alright,” Gaara said, patting Lee on the back, clueless what else to say.

Lee’s hug lasted far shorter than Gaara wanted it to, though, for he drew his shirt over his head. “Well we have to swim!”

“We do?”

Lee had already removed his sleeping pants. “Of course! Get _in_ , Gaara.”

He dove into the water, smooth and crisp and clean. Gaara’s undressing was executed with far less finesse, and he wasn’t brave enough to dive, choosing to wade into the shallows instead.

Gaara had not designed the pool from memory, choosing to keep his experiences in Konoha, but his architect had done well in keeping them very similar. An indoor pool, it resided below an atrium in order to collect the heat of the day. There was a small waterfall at the far end, beneath which a flat rock jutted out to serve as a seating place. Lee, ever the athlete, had already swum over to the ledge, and after clambering to the top, he crowed in victory before leaping off.

A laugh bubbled out of Gaara as he watched Lee swim towards him.

“What are you doing?” Lee demanded. “That’s not swimming, Gaara.”

“It’s cold,” Gaara said feebly, and he shivered for effect.

Lee’s response was to send a wave of water hurtling towards him.

“Hey!” Gaara protested, wiping water from his eyes. “Thanks.”

Lee splashed him again. “You are _most_ welcome!”

The morning sun was climbing higher in the sky as Gaara followed Lee across the pool, chasing away the coolth of dawn. Gaara was glad for it; the heat was spreading throughout the atrium and making the water somewhat more palatable. Lee didn’t care, charging forwards with that aggressive crawl stroke. He reached the ledge much quicker than Gaara and settled upon it, tipping his face up to the light.

Gaara paused, caught off guard. The effect was almost angelic—Lee sitting there amongst the crepuscular rays.

Then the raven noticed he had stopped and kicked water in his direction. “Hurry up,” he teased, and Gaara gave him the finger to cover his blunder.

“Considering,” Gaara huffed as he resumed making his way over. “That I didn’t learn how to swim until recently—” He batted Lee’s proffered hand out of the way and heaved himself up onto the ledge. “I think I’m doing okay.”

“I think so too,” Lee chuckled, knocking shoulders with him.

Gaara shoved back, trying to focus on evening out his breathing. Gods, he needed to start going with Lee on his morning runs. His cardio was terrible. His nerves were terrible. Everything was rather terrible right now.

What wasn’t terrible though, was the way Lee turned to him, eyes crinkling, cheeks wide around a smile. All of that, directed at him like a gift.

“This really is wonderful,” Lee said. “Thank you.”

His voice was soft, like Gaara’s heart. The _anything_ lingering on Gaara’s tongue never made it to the surface, though. Instead, he pushed off the ledge and swam back to the shallows, certain he was as red as his hair.

Lee followed, a fact that pleased Gaara much more than he felt was necessary, and then he watched as Lee’s hand closed over his own, slowly linking their fingers together.

Gaara stared at their hands, counting off the seconds in his head.

“Thank you,” Lee said again, and he pressed his lips to Gaara’s hair.

Apparently a night of holding each other didn’t dull the desire at all; if anything, it had made it worse. Gaara saw no reason not to listen to it, and he rested against Lee, drawing courage from the proximity, wondering if he could voice his thoughts.

When Lee did nothing other than press another kiss to Gaara’s hair, he decided there was no time like the present.

“Lee,” he began.

“Hm?”

“I’m…sorry.” _For so many things_.

He was thinking of the talk he’d had with Kankurō, when they had sat in their sparring ground and his brother had told him to trust more. He had said that everyone was there to help Gaara, but it hadn’t been the case, because that had been before the rush of his brother’s gala had swept everyone into a frenzy and Gaara had been sucked into an abyss of paperwork.

He hadn’t talked with anyone since then. He was blaming it on time management, but he also didn’t want to be a bother. Naruto was the closest he had come to sorting through his emotions, and he had shut the blond down almost immediately.

So it wasn’t very surprising when Lee leant back to try and meet Gaara’s eyes and said, “Why are you apologizing?”

Gaara chose to keep his gaze on their locked hands. “Ah, you know, for trying to kill you. And for making you be my Seal Partner. Taking you away from Konoha…it seems like the list is building as we speak.”

He tried for a laugh but it fell flat. Concern was writ large on Lee’s face.

“How long have you felt like this?”

“Ah…” Gaara trailed off. “A while? I’ve been avoiding it. Avoiding people. You.” Gaara checked to see if Lee would stop him, but the raven just sat there, brow furrowing further with every passing second. “I’ve just kind of been burying myself in work so I didn’t have to face things. And I…I didn’t take care of you when I said I would.”

Lee spoke up, “Yes you did—”

“I didn’t. Not properly. I didn’t make time for you, and I shut myself off. I let my jealousy get the better of me with Riko and I just thought…well never mind what I thought. The point is I owe you a great deal, and, I’m sorry.”

“Gaara,” Lee said slowly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Gaara’s throat was itchy and his eyes were blurring. “Because you didn’t need to deal with that too.”

“Come here,” Lee said, voice all wobbly like he was about to cry again, but Gaara did not get to find out if he was because Lee pulled Gaara to him and wound his arms around tight. “You don’t owe me anything, alright? I am _honored_ to be your Seal Partner. I’ve said this before. I don’t wish to be anywhere else!”

“Lee, no, listen—”

“No, it is _your_ turn to listen,” Lee cut in, cupping Gaara’s face. “We are bound in blood. I made a promise to you that I would uphold our seal, and I intend to protect you with my life. You are very special to me!”

“Lee—”

“Please, Gaara. Trust me when I say this. _Trust_ _me_. I would follow you to the end of the earth!”

Gaara’s eyes were stinging, because in what karmic universe had he done something good enough to deserve Lee? It wasn’t this one, that’s for sure.

“Lee…” he said once more, a broken sound, and the tears spilt freely down his cheeks now.

Lee pressed their foreheads together. “It’s okay. I’m here. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

It wasn’t the first time Gaara had been held so tightly by Lee, and it certainly wasn’t the first time he had been spoken to and reprimanded for his lack of trust, but he supposed it was a little like learning a new jutsu: you got better with repetition.

“Are you sure?” he said, meek.

“Yes,” Lee said, wiping his face, kissing his forehead. “Yes, I’m sure, Gaara. You can talk to me, you know. Please. I want to help.”

“But you _have_ helped already. You’ve helped so much.”

Lee wiped another stray tear away with his knuckle and smiled gently. “Let me again. I want to. You are so special to me.”

_That’s the second time you’ve said that_ , Gaara thought, but he didn’t voice it, wondering if he was reading into things too much.

So he took a deep breath, and then another, because courage without alcohol was much more difficult to muster, and then he spoke of how it felt like he was staring down an unstoppable sandstorm.

“These Seals…they were supposed to bring world peace, but I don’t know if I did the right thing. I did not think of those who would be forced into being Partners.”

Lee rubbed circles into Gaara’s shoulder. “A small sacrifice for the greater good of many, don’t you think?”

“So people keep reminding me.”

“As for forcing people, there is no one that Sasuke would want Naruto to be with apart from himself. And you already know how I feel.” Lee’s eyes were starry. “Perspective. Try to remember that although all situations have positives and negatives, it is which one we choose to focus on that will endure.” Then, in a very gentle tone, Lee added, “You don’t have to shoulder every burden.”

Gaara looked up at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Lee cleared his throat. “I’m saying that to place such large blame on yourself for the Sealings is like blaming a single genin for the team failing.”

“That’s silly, though, they work together—” Gaara said, before he caught himself. “Oh.”

“Yes,” Lee said. “Same concept, you know? It’s okay to not take the blame. You’re allowed to.”

Gaara frowned, not liking what he was hearing, but also having no solid argument against it. Everything he could think to counter with just sounded…childish. Selfish.

So he said what Lee deserved to hear: “Thank you.”

“Will you talk to me?” Lee said. “I’m always going to be here for you.”

“I’ll try,” Gaara said. “I promise to try.”

“I’ll take it.”

Gaara’s chest was alight. The atrium had now rid itself of the cold, and the shallows in which they sat were calming. Lee’s smile was so kind; his arms, solid and comforting, felt like home. Gaara rested his head on Lee’s shoulder, overcome, and they leaned against each other, mellowing in the morning sun.


	16. Tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *has two types of updating—every couple of days, or months at a time—with no in-between*

Gaara’s idea of a perfect day was to remain at the pool for the entire day, lounging about with Lee and counting the water droplets in the raven’s hair. Unfortunately for him, it was to remain an idea, as Lee’s genin team awaited him at midday.

"Do you have to?" Gaara said, rather petulantly and not at all like a dignified Kazekage.

Lee laughed, untangling himself. “Regretfully,” he said, poking Gaara’s shoulder before getting out.

Gaara followed suit, calling upon his sand to remove the water from his skin. Next to him, Lee was pulling on his trousers, and Gaara tried and failed at not looking. The raven did not have the luxury of sand to dry himself with, and so the trousers stuck to him, the fabric doing absolutely everything to showcase the strong muscles of Lee’s legs. Gaara swallowed hard and turned away, trying very hard to not think about climbing into Lee’s lap and repeating his efforts to Lee’s neck from last night.

Gods, _last night_. Gaara doubled his focus on drying off. It was all very familiar, the two of them redressing silently after a swim, except when Lee was done, he held out his hand to Gaara.

“Come on,” he said.

Previously, whenever Gaara had talked, the therapeutic effect of the conversation had always felt fragile, likely to snap if the wrong word was said. Now wasn’t like that though. Now felt strong, secure, safe. Lee’s hand was warm when he took it, and he held onto it as they walked back to the West. Silence always had a tendency to make Gaara feel uncomfortable, except he was far too aware of the way Lee’s arm brushed against him, and the effect was a heightened heartrate instead.

“Thanks for this morning,” Gaara said.

Lee grinned back, all teeth and clinging clothes and drying hair and _gods,_ Shukaku was never going to let him live. “Thank you for letting me help.”

Gaara gave the raven’s hand a shy squeeze and disappeared into his room to change. They had both missed breakfast—although he suspected that the aftermath of last night’s inebriation would prevent the rest of the family from joining the morning sitting anyway—and so a tray had been laid on the coffee table. Gaara picked at the fruit bowl, not hungry thanks to his own hangover, and then stared out into the city.

_It’s okay to not take the blame. You’re allowed to._

Was he though? It felt wrong. He dressed into his maroon robes instead of dwelling on it longer.

 

 

Naruto and Sasuke were lounging in the main sitting room when Gaara arrived a little past ten, the former looking a little worse for wear and the latter definitely looking like being amicable was the last thing in the world that he wanted.

“Morning,” Naruto said weakly with a peace sign, and Gaara smiled at him.

“Morning,” he replied, and then nodded in acknowledgement at Sasuke.

Uchiha, always one to uphold the haughtiness his clan was famous for, inclined his head in response but said nothing. Gaara couldn’t find it in him to blame the raven, either. Before the Sealings, the last time he had seen Uchiha was when he had left Konoha to chase after Orochimaru. Clearly so much had changed since then, and Naruto’s unending love for Sasuke was reason enough for him to trust the raven, but the two of them were far from reaching a truce any time soon.

Lee chose that moment to stick his head into the doorway, waving at Naruto. “Hello!”

Gaara frowned. “Aren’t you going to be late?”

“Never,” Lee shook his head. “Riko-san isn’t joining me today, so I thought I’d ask you—” He pointed at Sasuke, “—if you wanted to join me and leave these two to catch up.”

Sasuke turned his nose up at the offer and shook his head. “I’d rather practice on my own,” he sniffed, and after Lee pointed the way to the smaller training grounds, he departed, but not without stealing a glance at Naruto.

Such small interactions would have been missed by the others, but Gaara was used to being on the outskirts of gatherings, and he noticed everything. With just one look, he saw all the raven’s insecurities and reassurances. It was almost laughable, how similarly trapped they all felt, and it was because of this that Gaara decided to be gracious to the Uchiha rather than resentful of his standoffish behavior; they were all uncomfortable, trying to fit into their new skins.

He smiled at Lee. “Good luck with the kids. I’ll see you later.”

“Sure thing,” Lee beamed.

He paused, and then took a step forward to kiss Gaara’s forehead before body flickering from the room. Gaara blinked at the space Lee had been occupying, face on fire. If Shukaku wasn’t going to let him live, then Naruto was going to be the one holding the damned shovel.

True to expectation, Naruto leered at him. “You going to tell me what that was about?”

Gaara ignored him and rang the bell for tea. “No.”

“Oh, come on!”

Gaara pointedly sat on the opposing couch. “Naruto, when I know what it all means, then I’ll be sure to tell you.”

“Promise?”

Gaara rolled his eyes. “I don’t make promises. Now tell me about Konoha.”

Naruto threw his hands up dramatically, but he did as he was told and slumped on his couch. “I can’t believe you’re just going to let that slide. What happened last night? Did you end up in his room again?”

Gaara went to retort but Ami, their housekeeper, arrived with the requested tea, and so he stayed silent as she poured cups for them both. Naruto watched her, brow furrowing, and Gaara thanked her before she left.

“I still find that weird, you know,” Naruto commented. “Don’t you find it creepy to have other people living in your house, doing everything for you?”

Gaara shrugged. “You get used to it. It wasn’t always like this. We used to live pretty normally until I became Kazekage. I think that me being as young as I was made people think my siblings and I were incapable of looking after ourselves, as if we hadn’t been doing that the entire time my father was in power.”

Naruto blinked, then drank his tea thoughtfully, knee bouncing relentlessly. Silly blond, always unable to sit still. “Huh, true. But seriously. Lee? He kissed you, man.”

“On the forehead,” Gaara protested.

“ _Still_.”

Gaara wrinkled his nose. “I’m not here to satisfy your addiction for gossip, Naruto.”

Naruto stuck his tongue out. “ _Tell me_.”

“Tell me about Konoha and we’ll see,” Gaara countered. “It’s the only thing you wanted to talk about when I first saw you yesterday.”

“You’re not wrong about that,” Naruto nodded. “But I’ll tell you because I’ve been sitting on it for like, a week, and I’ve been dying to tell someone but I could only tell Sasuke and he’s been a bit bratty—don’t look at me like that. I know what you’re thinking already. But yeah, I did my research and went back to my roots with the Uzumaki clan because it originally comes from them, and then I spoke with Kurama because he’s old and he remembers a lot. Anyway, the problem with seals like ours,” Naruto pauses, which must mean something— “is that they’re not complete.”

And yeah, of all the things for Naruto to come to Suna with, that was not something Gaara had envisaged. “What?”

“The seals,” Naruto repeated. “They’re incomplete.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that they’re unbalanced.”

“ _Unbalanced?_ ”

Naruto coughed. “Heh. Yeah. You remember how Orochimaru met me in the chunin exams and tampered with my seal?”

“I didn’t, but now I do.”

“Yeah well, this is kind of like that. They put an odd-numbered seal on us, but you and I have even-numbered ones.”

Gaara stared at the blond, struggling to compute what he’d just been told. Any ease he’d felt from this morning had been swiftly replaced with anger. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Wish I was.” Naruto’s mouth was set in a line. “The actual seal is an old bonding one for marriages between Uzumaki royalty and outside clans they formed alliances with. Didn’t want the clan secrets getting out, I guess, which is fine, except you and I and every other jinchūriki already have a seal, and then we introduced this new one and our bodies are rejecting it.”

Gaara thought of the black tar he’d found on Kurama’s bars, and the cloying sensation lingering in his chakra pathways. “Shukaku doesn’t like the seal. We both don’t, but he’s been more withdrawn since. Says it feels gross.”

“Kurama said that too, you know.” Naruto rubbed a hand over his face. “I had a look at it myself but I can’t find a way to reverse it.”

“Well what did you do when Orochimaru tampered with yours?”

Naruto shrugged. “Pervy Sage fixed it for me and that was so long ago I can’t remember what he did. But I’ve got a theory. If you’ve got an unbalanced seal, then the obvious solution would be to balance it again, which you can do by either removing it—which I can’t do—or layering another even-numbered seal over the top.”

“What would that do?”

“Kind of like when you’re layering a sandwich and the top piece is too far left, so if we added another to the right, it would balance itself.”

Gaara snorted. It was so like Naruto to be using food analogies with something as serious as their _seals_. “I mean…it makes sense.”

“Doesn’t it?” Naruto grinned, clearly pleased with how well he’d held onto an idea like that. “I was going to tell Baa-chan immediately but Sasuke said I’d better bring it up at the Summit rather than going to her directly. Apparently it’ll be a show of trust.”

Gaara raised a brow. “Sure, a show of trust.” He played with his teacup. “A marriage seal, huh?” All he could think of was his sister’s smug declaration that he was getting married to Lee.

Naruto grinned. “Yeah…well, it’s a binding contract at the very least. But the Uzumaki used to perform it in two parts: one where you pledged loyalty to the Uzumaki clan, and then another smaller ceremony where you swore fealty to your partner.”

Gaara frowned. He couldn’t remember the exact wording of his vows, but he had the nagging feeling that he hadn’t pledged any sort of loyalty to Lee. “Just what we want. Another sealing ceremony.”

“It’ll be tiny though,” Naruto said reassuringly. “And it’ll be worth it. It’ll fix all of this and we can finally get into some kind of normalcy.” The blond stared out the open balcony doors, contemplative. “Y’know, I didn’t think saving Sasuke would lead to this.”

Gaara appraised his friend. There was something different about Naruto’s eyes. “Do you ever think about it?” he asked.

Naruto looked away. “Yes.”

“Do you regret it?”

Naruto was silent for so long that Gaara wondered if he would answer. “No,” he said. “Does that make me a horrible person?”

Gaara thought about all those times he had been the target of assassination attempts; of the faceless shinobi he had murdered in cold blood. He thought of Yashamaru, and how his uncle’s eyes had been so sad before Gaara had killed him.

“You were threatened,” he decided. “I cannot judge because I would have—I _have_ done the same.”

Naruto was busy scratching at the armrest of his chair. “Did you enjoy it though?”

 _That_ was unexpected. Gaara was very quiet as he asked, “Did you?”

When Naruto chose not to reply, Gaara already knew the answer. He studied the details of his cup, unsure how to answer Naruto properly, because the thing was…the thing was Gaara knew _exactly_ what Naruto meant, how invincible it had felt to be powerful enough to fell people like they were little more than saplings.

“I understand,” he said quietly. “I know what you mean.”

Naruto met his eyes then. They were such a bright shade of blue. “Really?”

Gaara nodded. He wasn’t used to being the comforter in these therapy sessions, because he’d never had the opportunity to, but Naruto was here, silently asking for his help, and Gaara wanted very much to.

“It’s—” he paused, searching for the right words. “Addictive. It’s hard to come back to your senses after—after you let your bijū kill.”

Naruto shook his head. “See, that’s it though. It was me, the entire time. Sure I don’t remember much of the actual killing part, but I was the one who allowed Kurama to do it.”

Gaara faltered. He knew that, but he hadn’t wanted Naruto to feel even guiltier. “What is done is done.”

“No it’s not,” Naruto disagreed. “It’s not done. I was stupid. I killed all those Akatsuki. And then I brought Sasuke back with me to Konoha without really thinking it through, even though he kept telling me the entire time that it wasn’t a good idea. Gods, he spent the first week in a prison cell before they let him stay with me, and even then I had five guards posted outside my door.”

“I didn’t know,” Gaara said softly. “We lost contact.”

Naruto flushed. “Sorry.”

“It’s both our faults,” Gaara said. “And you were doing what you thought was right.”

Naruto shuddered. “It was at the time.”

“Politics are messy at the best of times,” Gaara said gently. “And the path to redemption is even more treacherous. Give it time. All wounds heal with time.”

Naruto chuckled. “Thank you, O’ Wise One.”

Gaara laughed with him. “Lee said I was allowed to not take all the blame. I think that applies to you too. At the end of the day, everyone is looking out for themselves. They didn’t execute us. And you said it yourself; you got Sasuke back. You said he was worth it. You two are bound for life, now. I don’t see that as a negative.”

“I love him,” Naruto said suddenly, it that brutally honest tone that only people like Naruto and Lee seemed to have the courage to use.

“Naruto,” Gaara said. “The whole _world_ knows.”

“Jerk.” Naruto gave him the finger. “Alright. Your turn. Tell me about Lee.”

“ _No_.”

“You promised!”

Gaara mock gasped. “I did no such thing. Drink your tea.”

“Gaara!”

“Tea!”


	17. Growth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaara and Naruto catch up properly.

It was to be a decidedly colorful day. Whilst the morning had been a palette of pastel hues, the afternoon sky turned red and gold with the setting sun, a suitable match, Gaara decided, for his and Naruto’s hair. The two of them had tea in the sunroom, skipping luncheon due to the lingering alcohol in their systems, and Gaara listened to Naruto document his time away from Konoha as he chewed on his salmon. There was a persistent wistfulness to Naruto’s tone as he spoke which Gaara felt keenly. He had known Naruto for almost seven years now, and in that time they had each gone through their own metamorphoses, but they had not yet been able to simply sit down and _talk._

Naruto’s sabbatical had been a much-debated topic over the last couple of years. Gaara still remembered the day he heard the news. He had been returning from a meeting with the Land of Wind’s daimyō to approve his nomination as Kazekage, and, being the only nominee for a position that had been maintained by a regent since the Konoha Crush, had thus been granted the title provisionally until he became a chūnin later that year. So there he had been, sinking underneath the proverbial weight of his appointment, with Temari and Kankurō also reeling at his success, when a letter was delivered to him. The orange envelope had been a dead giveaway to whom had sent it, but Gaara had still been surprised at its contents.

_Dearest Gaara_ , it had read. _This is a short letter because you know how much I hate writing, but I have to go away for a bit. I’m going to find Sasuke and bring him home. Promise I’ll stay safe. Don’t miss me too much. Love your guts_.

And that had been it. Temari had balked when she read the letter. It wouldn’t do, she had argued, to possess knowledge of Naruto’s unapproved departure from his Village. Kankurō had agreed. Gaara hadn’t known what to do, so they had burned it in the fireplace, just to be safe, and when Lady Tsunade had called two days later to ask about Naruto’s leave, Gaara could honestly say he did not know where the blond had gone, only that it was a redemption mission. There had been a silence on the line, as if the Hokage agreed with Gaara’s thoughts that the mission was futile. Then she had congratulated him on his appointment—word travelled fast, clearly—and wished him luck until he would journey to Konoha for the chūnin exams.

That had been it for the next two years that Naruto had been gone. No contact, no updates. In that time, Gaara had completed his exams, had sat on Hokage Mountain with Lee, had formed their tentative friendship and thought about it for months on end afterwards, had waded through the bullshit of earning the respect of his council elders, had built Sunagakure back to some semblance of the great Village it had once been, and then Naruto had returned and brought with him Sasuke and a maelstrom of decisions that had led to their current status as jinchūriki with Minders.

_Yes_ , Gaara thought, _that wistful tone was incredibly apt_.

He promptly stood as Naruto was in the middle of relaying a particular story where he and Sasuke had been rained inside for a weekend and gone almost mental with the cabin fever, and wrapped his arms around the blond’s shoulders.

“Whoa—hey, you okay?”

Gaara didn’t answer for a moment, too overwhelmed with holding the blond, trying to show Naruto how much he regretted, related, _cared_. “Yes. I have missed you, though.”

“It’s alright.” Naruto grinned, and held him as well. “I missed you too. I missed everyone. So much changed when I left.”

“Yeah. You got taller.”

“And you got whiter,” Naruto retorted, ducking when Gaara swung out at him. “What? I’m serious.”

“It’s all the time I was cooped up indoors trying to fix this country,” Gaara simpered.

“It’s still broken.”

“Oi!” Gaara said, swinging again.

He hit his mark this time. Naruto wholeheartedly deserved it.

 

 

Gaara took Naruto to the training grounds after that, and the two of them sparred against a peach and apricot backdrop.

“We should stick to taijutsu,” Gaara said, partly because he wanted to show off what Lee had taught him, mostly because two jinchūriki fighting each other with ninjutsu ran the risk of kickstarting the next world war and round of condemnation.

“Scared you’ll lose?” Naruto laughed.

“World peace, yeah,” Gaara countered, crouching into stance.

Naruto screwed his nose up. “Can’t we do both? I suck at taijutsu.”

“That just shows you need practice,” Gaara pointed out. “Okay fine. But don’t go too hard.”

“Of course,” Naruto said, crouching into position. “Wouldn’t want to disturb world peace.”

 

 

Gaara wasn’t planning on using a tailed form. Really, he wasn’t. Except Naruto’s time with Sasuke had clearly influenced him in his tactics—he fought _dirty_.

_Shukaku_ , Gaara snapped when Naruto had surrounded him with clones of _Lee._

_Oh, how flattering to know you only call upon me when you need something_ , the tanuki drawled. _How may I be of assistance?_

_Don’t act like you’re not dying to beat Kurama_ , Gaara snorted. _A little help here?_

_Fine,_ Shukaku sighed, letting chakra bleed through the seal. _I can be generous when Kurama is involved._

Gaara felt the influx of chakra hit him like a tidal wave and resisted it immediately. _Shukaku, not_ that _much—_

_Shh_ , Shukaku hushed. _Don’t you trust me?_

Apprehension curled around Gaara like smoke, because he didn’t, not completely, not yet. _Promise me you won’t do anything stupid_.

_It’s almost like you’ve forgotten what I told you before sparring with Lee all those weeks ago_.

Gaara ducked his head in shame. Of course. The tanuki was right; he had not wavered when Gaara had been on the verge of a panic attack, certain he would lose control and kill Lee. Now was no different.

_Sorry_.

Shukaku snorted. _Thank you. Now, where were we?_

Gaara closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying not to dwell on the anxiety in his gut. _We were beating Kurama._

_Excellent_ , Shukaku said, and he tried again.

This time was a monsoon, and it felt like drowning. Gaara’s chakra pathways were alight as it flooded through him, furious and unstoppable, and he couldn’t keep his head above water. Around him, his sand shifted, molded, formed into arms and claws and spikes. He felt the shroud close over him, engulfing him. Behind him, a tail flared to life, and suddenly he didn’t care so much anymore. Everything was muffled, cloudy.

“You never said we were allowed tails!” Naruto yelled.

Gaara’s jaw opened around a laugh—Shukaku’s laugh. Naruto went onto all fours, and his skin flared yellow, the clones of Lee disappearing in puffs as his shroud formed around him.

There was a victorious howl as the shroud took on Kurama’s form, a blazing fox. Gaara could barely make out the blond beneath it and for the briefest moment panic seized him, before Shukaku was there, soothing, calming.

_Relax. Kurama and I know what we’re doing. It’s just a bit of sparring between us._

Gaara blinked. Everything was so muddled and dark. He had reasons to not continue with a tailed form, but he couldn’t remember them.

_Just keep your promise,_ Gaara pleaded.

_I swear,_ Shukaku grinned. _Now, trust us_.

So Gaara did.

 

 

The sky was on fire. Beneath it, the trees burned in shades of vermilion and amber, a gorgeous display of destruction. They weren’t Gaara and Naruto anymore. They were jinchūriki, the One-Tail and Nine-Tail, and the knowledge sank deep into his bones.

Oh, this was _bad_. He blinked, arms heavy and lethargic. He stamped his feet and the ground shook. Birds flew overhead, crying out. They had come to blows with each other just before. There was a fresh wound above his eye, and crimson bled into his vision.

Movement then. Before him, the fox reared up, prepared to charge once more. He bared his teeth at the weakling.

_Then come_ , he challenged.

Raising his tail, he let the spikes loose as the fox came towards him on all fours. The fox dodged between the sand senbon effortlessly, and they fell like raindrops, shattering the sky, piercing the dirt. The fox did not stop. The fox kept coming, swift and relentless, and they crashed together, sand and fire and chakra.

_Dog,_ the fox sneered from above, swiping down, clawing at him.

They grappled in earnest, punching and gouging each other, and the blood stained the earth. He roared, and the shockwave sent the fox flying, down, down, towards the other end.

_You are weak_ , the fox mocked. _Where is your power, One-Tail?_

He snapped. _Mind your tongue, Nine-Tails._

The fox chortled. _Or what, One-Tail?_

Rage surged within him. Who did this fox think he was, refusing to back down? They both knew the number of tails each one had made no difference to their abilities. He would show the fox. He was _Kazekage_ ; he would not be challenged. He had wrought this country from the clutches of destruction; he had helped to create world peace. He was not to be questioned about his strength when this fox knew _nothing_ about being a leader. The fox was a fool; he was the one who had forced the jinchūriki into submission in the first place.

No, he would not be cowed. He would wrench the bijū from his jinchūriki and show him exactly why the number of tails did not correspond to power. He would crush the bones of that tiny human and then he would pull the fox apart, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but the smell of death and triumph. He had saved them whilst the Nine-Tails had sat back and watched the world burn.

_Desist,_ he growled, a warning.

The fox snarled at him, pawed the ground. _You cannot defeat me. I’m your superior. You made this mess._

_I_ fixed _it. You did nothing. I could destroy you in a heartbeat._

The fox threw his head back and laughed. _Oh, One-Tail, you may_ try _._

The fox charged then, lightning fast, and he sent forth his sand. The fox crashed through the first wall, then the second. Chakra bullets soared through the air, hailing down on him and he spread his shield out above, blocking out the sun.

The ground thundered as the fox threw spheres at him, and he lashed out with his tail, dispersing them before they could come close. His sand hissed angrily, rising up to meet the latest barrage, blocking them from impact.

Beneath the canopy of sand, the air turned blue. Bright orbs of swirling chakra came for him then, and the fox was running again, surrounded by an army of rasengan. His sand could not stop it.

_No time,_ he swore, _there’s no time—_

An almighty roar sounded, one that set him back on his haunches, made him cross his arms in defence.

_Brace—_

They collided like lightning against a stormy sea. The impact left scars in the earth.

 

 

When Gaara came to, Naruto was on his side, holding him. The sun was brushing against the horizon, a molten egg yolk. Sand swirled around them, unsettled.

“Are you okay?” the blond murmured.

“Yes.” Gaara laid his hand on Naruto’s arm. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” Naruto’s eyes were burning sapphires with the descending sun. “They stopped us, you know, Kurama and Shukaku.”

“Did they?” Relief hit Gaara square in the chest. “Good. That’s…good. I wasn’t myself.”

“Yes,” Naruto said vacantly.

Gaara shuddered. The fog of confusion was clearing, and snippets were coming back to him, little snapshots of what he’d thought of doing to Naruto, of how he had blamed the blond for everything, of how he had been so bitter and resentful.

“Naruto—”

“I thought I was back with the Akatsuki,” Naruto interrupted, like he knew exactly what was going through Gaara’s mind, and then he was heaving. “I thought you were Akatsuki, Gaara, I was going to kill you, I didn’t even think, I was going to—”

He couldn’t talk anymore, too choked up, and Gaara sat up fully, wrapped his arms around the blond and tried to hold him together. Their skin was blistered and burnt, a testament to how long they’d worn their shrouds. Naruto’s tears soaked his shirt.

Acid sat in Gaara’s mouth. It didn’t matter that their own bijū had stopped them from destroying each other; to even use a tailed form had not been wise.

Gaara stroked Naruto’s hair, finding solace in the warmth. “It’s okay,” he said. “They stopped us. You know how tails twist our thoughts.”

Naruto nodded, clinging to him. Gaara thought of their conversation earlier. There had been growth over the last few years, yes, but there was also trauma. Rage. Resentment. Guilt. Bargaining. Nightmares and fears that hadn’t been granted the light of day to be sifted through and dealt with.

Indeed, they had come so far, but there was still so long to go.

“Maybe we should stick to taijutsu next time,” Naruto said softly.

“Yes,” Gaara said, suddenly exhausted. “Yes, perhaps we should.”


	18. Forgiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i'm not in love with this but i've stared at it and rewritten it twice and we need to keep the ball rolling

Dusk was blood red.

Sasuke joined them almost immediately, assessing the situation in about three seconds and deciding he did not give two damns that Gaara was there as he fell to his knees and hauled Naruto into his arms.

“ _Dobe_ ,” he hissed into Naruto’s neck, fingers white where they dug into Naruto’s sides. “You fucking _dobe_ , you scared me. My seal—you _stink_ of Kurama. I thought—I thought…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, instead tightening his hold on the blond.

“Sorry,” Naruto mumbled.

“What the fuck did you _do?_ ”

Naruto did not get to answer, as Lee came then, eyes wild as he sprinted towards them.

“Gaara!” the raven shouted, and then he too was kneeling in the dirt, reaching out to touch Gaara’s face. “What happened? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Lee’s hands smoothed down Gaara’s neck to his shoulders, down his torso, over his arms, checking for injuries. “You’re burnt!”

Gaara blinked, struggling to catch up. “Lee, what?”

“Are you okay?” Lee repeated. “My seal—don’t you feel it?”

And yes, now that Lee had pointed it out, Gaara _did_ feel his seal, throbbing painfully in his chest as if it had been torn open again. Shock was a wondrous thing.

“Oh.”

“What happened? Were you attacked?”

Gaara shook his head. “No.”

“Then what…?”

“I…” Gaara trailed off, cheeks burning as shame rose within him. He sounded so childish. “Naruto and I…we were sparring and got carried away.”

“Carried away?” Lee repeated, brow furrowing. “Gaara, this—” he laid a gentle hand over Gaara’s seal, but the effect was still wildfire spreading through Gaara's torso. “This wasn’t simply ‘carried away’. You must have done something against the terms of our seal.” He paused. “So you’re not hurt?”

“No. I just used some of Shukaku’s chakra.”

Lee was looking at him expectantly, obviously unsatisfied with Gaara’s reply. “To spar? Why couldn’t you have just used your own?”

He cringed. “I don’t know. I was just trying to beat Naruto.”

Lee’s frown deepened. “Seriously?”

Gaara couldn’t find it in him to say it. He kept his eyes trained on the ground and nodded once.

There was a silence, like Lee was deciding what to say and couldn’t settle on anything. “I thought you were in danger, not having an ego contest.”

Gaara smarted at the raven’s words. “I didn’t mean to alarm you—”

“But I _was_ alarmed. You went against the terms of our seal.”

“I made a mistake—”

“Does this seal mean nothing to you?”

And gods, if that didn’t make Gaara want to curl into a ball and die. “Of course it does,” he snapped. “It means everything to me.”

“Then what were you _doing?_ ”

Naruto was the one to answer. “We used tailed forms. Shrouds. They’re powerful but tend to focus on the more negative emotions in you if you’re not careful.”

“Such as?”

Naruto looked at Gaara. “Sometimes it’s hard to distinguish between friend and foe. And sometimes it doesn’t matter if they are friends.” He sighed. “I thought Gaara was the Akatsuki and I went for the kill.”

Lee turned to Gaara. “And you?”

Three pairs of eyes swiveled onto him, and Gaara wanted nothing more than to be swallowed by the earth whole, because it was one thing to have thought what he had; it was another to actually verbalize them.

“Does it matter?” he said. “Whatever I thought, I also went for the kill.”

“The kill,” Lee echoed, voice hollow. “You two were going to kill each other.”

“We didn’t, though—” Naruto said, before he was cut off by Sasuke’s glare.

“Next time you two want to measure dicks,” the Uchiha said. “I recommend getting a ruler.”

“Thanks, asshole,” Naruto sniped.

“Maybe Sasuke-kun is correct,” Lee cut in. “These tailed forms…perhaps you two should exercise more caution before using your bijū for anything.”

“Can we not blame them, though?” Naruto asked. “It’s not their fault. They’re the ones that stopped us. They’re not as evil as the world keeps making them out to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m saying that people aren’t perfect, you know? Both Gaara and I made the decision to wear shrouds. We knew the dangers. And yes, today got out of hand; yes, it was messy and you two came running. You guys have every right to be mad and upset and worried. But don’t blame our bijū.” He touched Sasuke’s hand. “I mean, remember the day with the Akatsuki?”

“Of course, _dobe_ ,” Sasuke scoffed. “How could I forget?”

“Well, you were there. And you saw how everyone went. That was me. I was the one who let Kurama out.”

Sasuke was stonily unimpressed. “No shit.”

“Yeah, but I knew he wouldn’t stop until everyone was gone. And I didn’t care, because it meant you would be safe. It wasn’t right, but I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” He laughed dryly. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m responsible for what my Kyūbi did. I don’t regret it though.” He looked back at Lee. “I agreed to the seals to save Sasuke from the death sentence, even though the seal is almost like one anyway. But if I fuck up? That’s on me. Not my Kyūbi. We understand each other. We’re friends. He’d never do anything that wasn’t what I wanted him to do.”

Lee was regarding him carefully. “Naruto, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that the world needs to stop looking to the Tailed Beasts as thoughtless monsters. They’re not to blame.” He flushed then, as if the outburst had made him self-conscious. “Not without the inclusion of their jinchūriki.”

Gaara didn’t know what to say to Naruto. For the blond to be so candid about a topic that he himself rarely ever touched because the guilt still ate him alive floored him. Part of the reason Gaara was not wholly trusting of Shukaku was because he didn’t trust himself. People weren’t perfect. People had ugly thoughts, ugly plans, ugly intentions. Having a bijū was a little like having an enabler, but it didn’t mean Gaara had no control over it. He ducked his head, ashamed.

“He’s right,” he said quietly.

Lee’s brows were still knit together when he looked at Naruto, but he nodded slowly. “Okay,” he said softly. “I apologize. I don’t know anything about you, or Gaara, on what it is like being a jinchūriki, and that is a failure on my behalf.”

Naruto clapped a hand on the raven’s shoulder. “Don’t say that. You’re a _great_ guy, Lee. Look at how Konoha entrusted you with Gaara. That’s gotta mean something.”

“Yes.” Lee’s gaze landed on Gaara then. “It means everything.”

Gaara flushed even deeper, wondering _how_ Lee still thought about him. A silence threatened to envelop them, but Sasuke got up, helping Naruto to his feet.

“We should leave,” the blond said.

Lee nodded and stood, holding his hand out to Gaara wordlessly. Gaara took it, cautious, and then his fears melted away when he was pulled into a hug. Around him, Lee’s arms squeezed, hard. Hard enough for the seal on Gaara’s chest to stop throbbing. Hard enough for him to know that Lee had been just as scared as Sasuke.

Gaara’s eyes stung.

 

 

Lee had to return to his genin team, so after another tight hug for Gaara, it was just him, Sasuke and Naruto.

“You okay?” Naruto asked.

“Negligible,” Gaara said, not quite comfortable exposing his emotions when Sasuke was present. “What you said back there—it was brave of you. I couldn’t do that.”

Naruto scratched the back of his head. “It just felt right, y’know? I’d been thinking about it a lot, and after we talked earlier this morning…”

“I get it,” Gaara nodded.

Naruto’s grin was wide and infectious. “We’ll get through it, alright? We’ll just take things a little slower next time.”

Next time? Gaara couldn’t decide if Naruto was courageous or just downright reckless. He wondered what he was getting into. “Alright. Now go shower. You reek.”

“Rude,” Naruto laughed, but he left for his quarters with Sasuke.

Shukaku was eerily silent when Gaara probed gently at their shared plane, so he went to his room to bathe and then took his time layering new armor over his healing skin. When that was done, it became clear that Shukaku was not going to speak up first, so Gaara started it for them.

“I’m sorry,” he said aloud, finding no point in keeping the conversation in his head.

 _Maa,_ Shukaku grumbled. _If you’re about to launch into another self-pity monologue, I’ll just go back to sleep._

“Self-pity?” Gaara repeated, affronted.

 _You heard what I said. And I heard what you thought. People_ are _ugly._

“Shukaku—”

_Look, what good is wallowing going to do us, hm?_

“You know,” Gaara said, crossing his legs underneath him. “I was actually going to apologize. For always using you as a scapegoat.”

The tanuki was silent for several seconds. _Oh? Careful with your apologies, kid. I might use them against you_.

Gaara smiled in spite of himself. “You wouldn’t.”

_No?_

“You could have let me kill Naruto earlier. But you stopped me.”

_A lapse in judgement._

“You’re a terrible liar. Both of you stopped us.”

The tanuki growled then, and Gaara’s smile widened even further. How strange, to be having an unguarded conversation with his bijū. How odd, to have a sense of a burden being lifted from him. The sparring had been messy and dangerous, the semi-argument with Lee and Sasuke afterwards awful to endure, but it was done now. And he was still standing.

“Do you think we will ever be like Naruto and Kurama?”

Shukaku snorted, displeased at the mention of the Kyūbi. _As in?_

“Trusting.”

 _You say that like_ I’m _the one who doesn’t trust you_.

Gaara felt a stab of guilt at that. “That’s my fault.”

 _Yes_ , the tanuki said.

Something loosened inside of Gaara, gave him a sense of profound appreciation for Shukaku’s unwavering support. He hadn’t trusted the tanuki every time he had asked, always holding back, always doubting, and yet, he had never once been betrayed.

“You’ve always been there for me,” he said softly.

 _You shouldn’t read into it so much_.

“I don’t think I am.”

_You are, brat. Just because I’ve looked out for you and trust you does not make us friends._

Gaara thought back over the past couple of years, of how different the two of them worked together now compared to the chūnin exams. “I think it might, you know.”

Shukaku deigned not to answer, instead uttering a very loud and drawn out sigh to indicate his diminishing levels of patience. He must have been thinking the same as Gaara though; about all their conversations regarding Lee, sparring, the seal, Naruto.

All this growth and yet, Gaara had not opened himself up to Shukaku fully. He had just waited for the tanuki to open up to him without offering anything of himself in return.

Forgiveness was multifaceted, certainly, but Gaara figured he could start with the easiest part first.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

He felt Shukaku’s chakra flare once, pressing against the edges of his seal, testing. It receded gently, and Gaara was almost disappointed at the retreat, before it returned, like a wave upon a shore.

In their lifetime together, Gaara had always been wary of Shukaku’s chakra, or desperate for its destructive power. This was different, peaceful. He had never felt like it before, and yet here they were, teetering on the edge of something. It felt a lot like hope.

He closed his eyes, finding the great tanuki hunched before the prison bars. _Thank you_.

Shukaku did not answer. Gaara hesitated, then held his hand up towards Shukaku in a blatant request for touch. The tanuki regarded him warily and did not move. Gaara held his breath, and then waited, heart in his throat.

 _I trust you,_ he said, and he meant it.

Shukaku made him wait even longer. His tail flicked once. Then he stepped closer, and slowly, slowly, _slowly_ , he pressed his snout against Gaara’s outstretched palm.

Then quietly, before the tanuki shoved him out: _Always, kid_.


	19. Family Pt. II

Temari found him later, when Gaara had made up his mind to skip dinner. It had been a very, very long day. He felt stretched thin and worn out, something his sister was ignorant of when she entered with determined strides.

“Brother,” she greeted.

“Sister,” he said, cautious. “What brings you here?”

As it turned out, his sister had recovered from her hangover and was in a particularly domestic mood. The visit to his Wing was to rally him into helping her in the family’s private kitchen with mise en place for the evening sitting.

“A BBQ dinner would be a nice break from the norm,” Temari reasoned. Then she eyed him critically. “Is everything alright?”

Gaara looked at her. What good would it do if he told her about the close call from this afternoon? His sister would most likely have an aneurysm.

“Just tired,” he said, a half-truth. “Naruto and I sparred together.”

“Ah,” Temari said, eyes lighting up in understanding. “That’s why the guards were saying your chakra signatures spiked this afternoon. I was in a meeting but figured you two were okay, considering no one was running to grab me.”

Gaara coughed. “Ah. Yes. Signatures.”

Temari narrowed her eyes at him. “What is _that_ tone for? You didn’t do anything stupid, did you?”

Gaara’s mouth opened and closed around nothing.

“ _Gaara?_ ”

“Okay!” He held his hands up. “Okay, so maybe Naruto and I went a bit crazy, but no one was hurt.”

Temari’s hands had settled on her hips in a display of sisterly disapproval. “ _Gaara_ ,” she said solemnly, reminding him why he had wanted to lie in the first place. “That was dangerous of you! What if—?”

“ _Please_ don’t drag me over the coals,” he interrupted, because he knew if he did not stop her now, they would never get around to preparing for dinner and the residual bitterness on his tongue would be even more pronounced. “Sasuke and Lee have already done that.”

“I’ll bet Sasuke especially,” Temari mused. She paused a moment longer, clearly at war with the side of her that wanted to battle the subject out with Gaara, before saying, “Very well. I’ve said my piece. But _please_ think before you spar with Naruto again. Don’t get me wrong, I like him, but you two must be careful.”

Gaara ducked his head. “I am well aware of that, Temari.”

“I’m just checking. You know me.”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now come.”

  

 

They stopped by the guest wings, and—being as much a force of nature as the wind she commanded with her tessenjutsu—Temari managed to wrangle Naruto into helping as well. Sasuke was nowhere to be found, having left the blond after another disagreement, so it was just the two Sand siblings and the Konoha jinchūriki to prepare.

“Somehow I don’t trust you with anything that isn’t processed,” Temari told Naruto, shooing him into Gaara’s care.

“Hey!” Naruto half-protested.

Temar’s hand was noncommittal in its movement. “You’re on chopping duty with Gaara.”

Gaara grinned at the blond’s pout, taking great pleasure in introducing Naruto to proper food.

“You see this, Naruto?” he teased, holding up a cabbage. “This is a vegetable.”

Naruto told him exactly where to go and Temari barked out a laugh, telling Gaara he ought to be more careful given the surplus of sharp knives they had.

“May your aim be true,” Gaara muttered and Naruto guffawed into his hand, before the tears of joy turned into tears of pain.

“My _eyes!_ ”

“Maybe if you didn’t rub onion directly into them, you absolute _baka_.”

“I didn’t _mean_ to!”

Temari clicked her tongue and handed Naruto a warm cloth. “I leave you two alone for _five_ seconds. It’s not even a hard task.”

“I did what you asked.” Gaara gestured at his rather artfully arranged slices and cubes.

The Sand Sibling eyeroll was definitely a genetic trait.

Gaara counted it as a win as he went around depositing the food. The kitchen housed a spacious island into which a grill was built, so Gaara and Naruto arranged the plates as Temari took charge of the bar to make mocktails. She was clearly still feeling the effects of last night.

It wasn’t too long until Kankurō wandered in with Lee and Sasuke in tow, holding up a platter.

“I brought dessert,” he said, setting it down next to Temari with a flourish. “You can thank Sasuke for the dango.”

Gaara caught Naruto’s swift look at his Minder, at the way Naruto’s brow creased in concern, and he wondered what all that meant. Temari was oblivious, saluting her brother and Sasuke with a pineapple-crammed hurricane glass.

“Nice to see you pulling your weight with food prep,” she said sarcastically, and Kankurō waved her away like a pesky fly.

“I’m the backbone of this family,” he said in a longsuffering tone, before Temari batted him into a place at the island and told the others to follow suit.

Gaara slipped into the stool next to Lee, taking a pair of tongs from the raven. He wanted to ask Lee about how the rest of his evening had gone, but it wasn’t the right time. Kankurō was spluttering into his mocktail at something Naruto had said, and Temari was trying to get Lee to help her light the BBQ, so Gaara resolved to be patient and wait until they went to bed.

“You’re lighting it wrong,” Kankurō told Temari, and she threw the matches at him.

“Off you go then, superstar,” she teased, and it was Kankurō’s turn to wave her away.

And, it was simple, really, but Gaara had to bite down on a smile.

He liked the casual nights like these that he and his siblings had, when they could cook together and linger in the lounge without all the formalities. It reminded him of the time before Kazekage, when the three of them had rebuilt themselves after Konoha Crush, when they had learnt how to forgive and trust each other.

It had started with Gaara having no idea how to cook. He rarely slept, and rarely ate, so whatever meal he did deign to eat was always made by one of the kitchen staff. Kankurō had gruffly told him he could make packet ramen, but that was about it. Only Temari was capable of creating something more palatable. He might have ruled his siblings for the last year with intimidation, but asking Temari for help had made Gaara wonder if asking the earth to swallow him whole would be preferable. In the end, hunger won out, and Gaara had bolstered himself with memories of Naruto talking about his desire to help people as he approached his sister.

“Will you teach me?”

He could still remember how wide Temari’s eyes had been, and how tense the kitchen had felt as she had brought out a wok and taught him to make fried rice. Gaara had winced with each chop of the knife against the cutting board and resolved to be more quiet. Even the oil sizzling in the pan had made him shy away. Temari had laughed, before clapping her hand over her mouth and stammering apologies. It had broken the mood though. Gaara had tried for a smile, and he thought he didn’t do too badly. The fried rice was nowhere near Temari’s standard of cooking, but Gaara had felt on top of the world at accomplishing his first ever dish, and the two of them had huddled in the dining room, peering nervously at each other over the top of their bowls.

And somehow, it became a normal occurrence. The third time, when Temari was elbows deep in panko, Kankurō had wandered in prattling off a question before seeing them and stopping.

“What are you guys doing?” he said, incredulous.

“Cooking,” Temari had stated. “Pass me another prawn.”

And then there had been three. Eventually they had progressed to sitting in the living room after dinner, and then squabbling over what to watch, and it had felt good.

Gaara had been right in what he’d told Naruto earlier, despite how cheesy it sounded. All things took time.

“Brother,” Kankurō grumbled, clicking his fingers. “Make yourself useful and pass the soy.”

_Yes_ , Gaara mused as he threw the bottle at his brother’s head, _time definitely healed all wounds._

It was a saffron-drenched meal that quickly gave way to the thick velvet of nightfall, at which point they deserted the island and settled in the lounge to digest and watch trashy gameshows. Naruto sat on the floor at Sasuke’s feet in a subtle display of submission, whilst Temari bullied Kankurō into letting her have two-thirds of the opposing couch.

Gaara chose the middle couch before he could think too much about seating arrangements, letting out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding when Lee joined him.

Pathetic, considering they had shared a bed.

He stuck resolutely to his side though, too shy to lean against the raven like he wanted to, instead settling for listening to Lee laugh at something Kankurō said. Temari kicked their brother, knocking him to the floor, and Gaara smiled.

How wonderful it was, to be lucky enough to enjoy his family.

 

 

As time passed and the gameshows got more and more tedious, the others retired to bed one by one. Temari was the last to go, and she hovered her hand over Gaara’s shoulder tentatively, like she was afraid of breaking him.

“Thanks for your help today, little brother,” she said quietly.

Gaara looked up at her, curious. It had been such a little thing, to cook and eat dinner with his siblings. It had certainly been a while since they had eaten in such a relaxed environment, but Gaara did not see the big deal about it. Then he thought of their conversation when she found him, when she had not pursued his incident with Naruto. Temari relied on micromanaging. She feared her world would fall apart without it. It was part of the reason she often came across as overbearing. To have trusted Gaara enough to let the subject go was unheard of.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had given Temari an unguarded smile on cue, one that he wanted to and not one he felt obliged to give. Now though, now came without warning, and it came without thought, and it came without regret.

“Think nothing of it,” he said honestly, and his sister’s smile could have lit up the entire Village.

She left, buoyed by the interaction.

And then, it was just Lee and him.

The air could have been sliced with a knife. Gaara stared at the cushion in his lap, hyperaware of the raven’s presence, remembering how Lee had been so worried and forgiving.

That _had_ to be love, to have knelt in the dirt and touched him so carefully, concern in every movement.

But—surely not.

It was much easier to avoid, Gaara decided, so he immediately set out to look as busy as possible, collecting the glasses from the coffee table and washing them in the sink haphazardly. The water was far too hot—just short of scalding, really—and there was a stubborn streak on one glass that refused to budge in spite of Gaara’s best efforts.

“Hey,” Lee called, voice soft.

He stood and joined Gaara at the sink, prying the glass from Gaara’s hands and setting it down on the counter. Gaara’s skin was a soapy angry pink that stood out against Lee’s tan, but the raven seemed not to mind as he interlocked their fingers.

“Let’s go to bed.”


	20. Bathing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND AGAIN I am so atrocious at these timely updates

Lee’s hand was warm in Gaara’s. Shadows followed them as they walked, and the corridor stretched on for miles. Being closer, Gaara deigned to step into his room first, and the air was thick and cloying as Lee followed wordlessly.

“Bathroom,” he stated simply, turning on his heel and leading the way.

Lee would have to bathe, after all. And so would he, obviously. He wasn’t a grub.

Lee frowned when Gaara turned the taps of the shower. He had never used it before.

“I thought you took sand baths,” Lee said.

“I do,” Gaara said dumbly. “Why? Would you prefer I didn’t?”

“No, no,” Lee said, turning pink. “I thought you were going to join me, that’s all.”

“Oh!” Gaara said, turning a matching shade of red. “No, I can join you.” He hastily tacked on, “If you like.”

Somehow Lee went even redder. Then he seemed to make up his mind, forgoing an answer as his hands went to the zipper of his flak jacket.

Lee’s uniform was something that Gaara had avoided making a big deal over. At the end of their first week together, Yūko had sent through the first of the Konoha jōnin’s new uniforms. He had changed into it after his morning run, turning up to breakfast in it, and Gaara had followed the seams of the uniform, drinking in the beige flak jacket, the slate shirt and trousers, the brown legwarmers.

Temari had clapped her hands happily and commented, “Lee, you look _wonderful_.”

Gaara had said nothing. Instead he had looked at his breakfast so he didn’t dwell on the width of Lee’s shoulders, or the way the shirt tapered around his waist, or the flush on Lee’s cheeks.

It was that moment at breakfast that Gaara was thinking of now. Lee unzipped his flak jacket, and Gaara heard every catch, echoing in the tiled room. He took the garment from Lee and laid it over the clotheshorse. Next came the grey shirt, which Gaara preoccupied himself with folding meticulously. Then Lee went to his knees to undo his legwarmers, and suddenly it was a lot harder to focus on making sure the shirt had no creases in it.

Fuck.

_Skin,_ was all Gaara thought when Lee’s trousers were removed. _There’s so much skin_.

The black wraps around Lee’s hands were unwound with a level of precision that came from years of daily use, and then Lee was naked before him and Gaara wasn’t quite sure where to look.

“Gaara,” Lee gently admonished when Gaara made no move to copy. “You can’t go in your _clothes_.”

Gaara paused. Lee was a young god in front of him, with sloping tanned muscles and kind eyes. In contrast, Gaara was still too pale. He had freckles across his shoulders and his hair stuck up in all the wrong areas. There really was no comparison.

“Right,” he said.

Then he snorted over a laugh and did as the raven had implied. His fingers shook too much, and the buttons were a nuisance in the way they didn’t undo easily, and really, it was Summer, so why on earth was he wearing so many layers? It was a hydra, the way he took one off and two more seemed to follow. It was forever until he folded his clothes next to Lee’s in a very neat pile, and, when the raven said nothing, he held his breath and added his trousers.

“Right,” he repeated as his skin broke out into goosebumps.

The bathroom was suddenly a lot cooler on his bare form.

Lee took his hand and stepped under the spray.

 

 

It was a different sensation to swimming. Gaara was used to how the water seemed to envelop him when they swam, but a shower did not. Instead, it rained down on his back in steady streams, warm and soothing. They stood together and Gaara watched the droplets collect on Lee’s shoulder, wanting to lick them off. Would Lee protest?

Gaara saw it play out in his head. He would learn forward and touch the first drop, connecting them as they fell. Lee would laugh at him and Gaara would laugh too, and then he would find another droplet in the hollow of Lee’s throat. The next would land on Lee’s cheek, and Gaara would cradle Lee’s neck as he kissed Lee where he had wanted to last night.

But he didn’t do it. He did not reach out and hold Lee. Rather, Lee let go of Gaara’s hand to tip his head back and run fingers through his hair, and Gaara’s mouth went dry.

“I’ve never been for a shower before,” he said dumbly as he watched.

Lee cracked an eye open to look at him, incredulous. “You mean you hated water _that_ much?”

Gaara flushed, and he put his own head under, appreciating the way his nerves were muted by the sound of water against the glass panels. “It’s so…wet. I never went without my sand armor. Wet sand is difficult to work with.”

“Well that makes sense,” Lee said, still combing his hair, arm muscles flexing with the movement. “Especially if it’s the only thing you keep close to you.”

Gaara looked at the raven sharply. Lee was always so earnest, and it was blindsiding.

The raven must have seen the wariness on Gaara’s face, because he held his hands out, as if he didn’t want to scare Gaara away. “Hey,” he said, in that same soft tone from before in the kitchen. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You’re not wrong,” Gaara stuttered over a quiet laugh. “I never had anyone until Naruto.” _Until you_.

Lee came closer, and he caught Gaara’s wrist. Gaara looked down at their hands, blinking water out of his face.

“I’m here now, too,” Lee said. “I know I’m not Naruto, but will you keep me close to you as well?”

Gaara’s heart was beating awfully loud. Surely Lee could hear it over the din of the water, because it was too large for his chest. It was going to fall onto the floor at this rate and make a mess.

“No,” he said. “No, of course you’re not Naruto. You’re _Lee_.”

When he glanced up, Lee’s eyes were all watery again.

“Is that a yes?”

Laughter bubbled out of Gaara. “ _Yes_ , Lee. Of course it’s a yes.”

“Oh!” Lee said, and he was laughing too, then. “Thank you.”

 

 

Compared to showers, sand baths were straightforward and didn’t take much time, but there were rows of products on the shower shelving, and Gaara had no clue where to begin. He went to tell Lee as much, except—because he was human, and humans weren’t perfect—he paused instead to indulge in the raven’s aesthetic a little. Water sluiced down Lee’s skin, over strong lines of muscle built from years of dedication and hard work, swirling around their feet and gurgling down the drain.

“Now what?” Gaara managed to get out eventually.

“Use this,” Lee said and passed him a bar of soap. When Gaara looked at it blankly, he laughed, high and clear, like crystals. “Here,” he said, eyes crinkled in mirth. “I’ll help.”

It was almost clinical, the way he worked the bar into a lather and returned it to its spot before smoothing his hands over Gaara’s shoulders, down his arms. The suds smelt like the suncup and gardenia blooms in Gaara’s favorite part of the palatial gardens. Gaara used to sit there in the afternoons, hiding from his father’s wrath. Invariably, Yashamaru would find him there past sundown, still warm from the day, and they would eat the dinner his uncle brought.

Lee reached his wrists and paused, thumbs rubbing circles over them. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Gaara said, recalling his attention. “I was just remembering something.”

Lee tilted his head in an unspoken question.

“The soap smells like the gardens,” Gaara explained.

“Ah,” Lee nodded, bringing his hands routinely back up. It most definitely wasn’t clinical when Lee reached Gaara’s chest. His hands stilled, hovering over Gaara’s heart. “Should I…do you know how to now?”

Gaara swallowed. “I…I don’t think so.”

How long would the two of them hide behind excuses? How many little lies like this would they tell each other?

Lee bit his lip. “I’m going to keep going then,” he said, so much more self-assured than Gaara.

“Alright.”

Around them, the water became louder. Lee’s hands were terrifyingly gentle as they stroked down his chest, sweeping broad circles into Gaara’s sides. He watched what he was doing, and Gaara watched him in turn, huffing out a laugh when Lee’s touch turned ticklish. Lee laughed with him, leaning their foreheads together and breathing as one, before he returned to the task at hand.

No words were spoken. Gaara became a little lost when Lee’s touch became exploratory, squeezing Gaara’s hipbones, then his obliques, his lats. The raven’s hands kneaded gently, but Gaara was on edge. He could feel every fingerprint on his skin. How could something so simple make his heart beat faster than a hummingbird?

Eventually, Lee’s hands returned to Gaara’s shoulders, briefly moving up to press the trigger points in Gaara’s neck before cradling his face. They paused there, strong and sure, and then continued, carding through Gaara’s hair. Gaara leaned into it as Lee’s fingers scratched lightly at his scalp, and he sighed, content. He was boneless, lulled by the water and Lee’s touch.

 

 

They couldn’t stay forever, even though Gaara very much wanted to. Lee climbed out first after rinsing the soap from his hair, and Gaara focused on absorbing the water from his skin with sand as the raven dried off. He didn’t dare look up.

His sand was less reserved, and hummed happily when he returned it to its gourd. It never used to do that.

“Do you have any pajamas?” Lee interrupted his musings, towel slung low around his hips.

Gaara spied the raven’s damp shoulders and wet hair. “You didn’t dry off properly,” he mumbled. “But, yes, I do.”

He led the way to the wardrobe, picking out the first shirt he saw and holding it out. Lee pulled it on, hair ruffling like an ostrich, and Gaara clicked his tongue in amusement.

“That’s ridiculous,” he said, because the only other adjective he had was _‘adorable’_.

Lee held his arms out proudly. “But it fits!”

Gaara chuckled, taking a set for himself. “Come on.”

He climbed into bed without waiting for the raven, slipping under the covers and watching the shadows on the wall as Lee dropped his towel and changed into the trousers. Silk rustled against skin, and Gaara shivered, burrowing deeper into his bed.

Lee turned the light off, and the mattress dipped when he got in beside Gaara. They lay in silence, looking up at the moonlit ceiling. Gaara could almost hear his heartbeat over his uneven breathing.

“You okay?” Lee asked again.

Gaara’s anxiety spiked further. He turned his head to look at the raven. “What do you mean?”

Lee propped himself up on an elbow, looking intently at the bedspread. “After your spar with Naruto. Are you feeling better?”

“Oh.” Gaara turned back to the ceiling, and Lee lay down again. “Yeah, I’m better now. Sorry I made you worry.”

“Don’t be.” Lee kept staring up as he took Gaara’s hand and laced their fingers together. There was a moment, and then Lee sighed quietly, rolling onto his side to drape his free arm over Gaara. “I am glad you are alright, though. And safe.”

Gaara held onto Lee’s forearm and nuzzled the raven’s hair. “Thank you.”

He felt Lee’s smile against his throat. “Always.”

The weight of that word was heavy on Gaara’s tongue, and he chose to focus on where they were touching. “I like your hands,” he confessed.

“I like yours too,” Lee said, and his grin was still on Gaara’s neck.

Gaara nosed the raven’s hair, and then kissed his temple. “Thank you.”

Movement. Lee lined himself alongside Gaara properly until they were pressed together like puzzle pieces. He brushed the hair from Gaara’s eyes, tracing over his tattoo. And then, Lee did everything that Gaara had done to him after their first banquet together: he kissed Gaara’s nose, then his cheeks. Gaara closed his eyes when Lee’s mouth pressed to his forehead.

“Sleep,” Lee murmured, warm and comforting and secure.

And, exhausted and overwhelmed with love, Gaara did.


	21. Lee – Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lee wakes up first, as always

Lee liked to think that his life since moving to Sunagakure was fairly uncomplicated.

In the mornings, he woke up and sprinted laps around the Village. Konohagakure was never as dusty as his new home, even during the dry season, so it took him the better part of three days to learn how to not choke on the clouds his feet made, but when he  _ had  _ mastered it, it was worth it. He’d always liked to see the day start, and Sunagakure had its own kind of beauty; a slower, more gentle aesthetic.

The Land of Wind lived up to its name, and the hushing of sand would be the only noise for the first few laps. It was an easy introduction to the day, and Lee very much liked the way the sky lightened as the sun climbed its way into the heavens, and the shrill call of birds wakening, and the steady build of noise as the village people began their daily routines.

After lap nine or ten, his lungs would burn  _ terribly _ , but his sensei was always saying pain had a way of reminding oneself of their mortality, and so Lee would chase after the feeling of his body burning up, and the lactic acid buildup becoming lead in his calves, and the pounding of his chest and the roar of blood in his ears. Sunrise would come after lap fifteen and Lee would feel  _ alive _ .

He always aimed for fifty laps before seven, at which time the sun was high enough that running was no longer enjoyable and rather an exercise in mental stability because  _ who  _ in their right mind liked to toy around with heat exhaustion. Lee was dedicated, yes, but not a fool. His sensei had taught him better than that.

So he’d slowly come to a stop, legs  _ trembling, _ and then walk back to the house. He’d swim in the pool Gaara had installed in the Southern Wings (and it was absolutely  _ heavenly _ , Gaara was a  _ dream  _ to have dedicated it to him), and then head to the dining hall for breakfast, because Temari liked them all to eat together, and Lee did enjoy the family’s company.

Except this morning, Lee did not go running.

He did not watch the sunrise, because Gaara’s room was in the Western Wing, and the sun did not invade his quarters until the afternoon.

He did not remind himself of his mortality by exercising until his legs gave out.

He didn’t do any of his normal routine, because he had something far better to stay inside for.

It was Gaara (of course it was Gaara).

The redhead was still sleeping. Lee had never known him to sleep in all their time together, but now he was peaceful, pale against the sheets, red hair dark in contrast. The tattoo on his forehead was a matching shade, and his lashes fanned out prettily onto his cheeks.

_ How lucky am I _ , Lee thought to himself as he appraised Gaara’s sleeping form,  _ to love such a person _ .

Gaara was a consistent source of inspiration for Lee. He commanded his country with a gentle confidence, something he had learnt and cultivated by himself since becoming friends with Naruto. It made Lee’s heart burst with appreciation and admiration for Gaara, to have made such an about turn with his life.

Who would have thought that all these years later, Lee would be fortunate enough to be lying next to Gaara, watching the dawn upon the redhead’s face? Certainly not Lee.

Gaara’s Kazekage persona was something he donned as effortlessly as his robes, and whilst the resulting authority figure was someone Lee greatly respected, there was a softness to him in the morning that made Lee’s heart thump almost as painfully as running did. Perhaps it was that his brow was not creased. Lee had noticed it become a more prominent feature over the last few weeks, but he’d not had the time to address it with Gaara; any chance he had stumbled across had been swiftly taken, whether it be Gaara running off to another errand, or Temari and Kankurō joining.

For now it was pleasing that Lee could not see it wrinkling Gaara’s forehead, and he swept his thumb lightly over where it usually was.

In response, Gaara sighed. Lee briefly wondered if he had woken the redhead, but Gaara’s eyes remained closed. He stretched slightly, much like a cat, and then shifted onto his stomach, face turned towards Lee. The result was his cheek being squished against the pillow, which Lee thought was rather adorable and made him want to kiss it all over again.

Last night had been  _ wonderful _ . The shower had threatened to take all of Lee’s bravery with it down the drain, but Gaara had not seemed to care. He’d treated the shower with almost the same level of ease that he did their swims, and so Lee had been emboldened enough to hold Gaara’s hand again, and ask to be close.

_ Like Naruto _ , he had implied, but he hoped to be closer. He knew Gaara shared a special bond with Naruto, and that was more than fine, because Lee understood the sacred importance of friendships, but the way he wanted Gaara definitely was  _ not  _ in a friendship sort of way (he was almost one hundred percent sure Gaara did not look at him in a friendship way either).

The thought was at once exhilarating and terrifying.

He was thrilled that Gaara had let him kiss him so openly when they went to bed. He hadn’t pushed Lee away once; instead the redhead had laid still as Lee pressed his mouth to his cheekbones, and his nose, and his forehead. Lee hadn’t been brave enough to kiss his mouth though; the entire evening had been somewhat unreal, so Lee hadn’t wanted to overstep any boundaries, especially since physical intimacy was new to him.

He had never been close enough to anyone to hug them, or hold them, let alone kiss them, so Gaara was a miracle in human form. 

Lee blushed when he remembered the way Gaara had touched him at the gala, the way his mouth had felt on his jaw and throat. It had sent a different type of fire through him than the one running did; a fire that reached down to the tips of his fingers and made his nerves sing.

Lee was  _ unbelievably _ regretful that they had not kissed before Temari had walked in on them. It had seemed such a surefire thing, finally within Lee’s reach, and then Temari had come looking for them because Riko-san wanted to introduce them to her fiancée. Lee liked Riko-san a lot. They got along well, and he  _ adored  _ their genin team. But at that moment he’d wanted to throw one of his leg warmers at her because he’d  _ been so close  _ and her timing couldn’t have been  _ more worse _ .

At least Gaara had deigned to sleep in the same bed that night. He had been quite standoffish for the rest of the gala and Lee had fretted the entire time, wondering if perhaps Gaara had not wanted to kiss him (at which Lee was  _ positive  _ he’d cry). But they had gone to bed together, and then last night as well, and now here he was (amazingly, Lee was not  _ worthy _ ).

The first of the morning birdsong floated into the room then. Gaara sniffed once, nose scrunching up, and Lee just wanted to kiss it even more then (he didn’t though, because Gaara was asleep, and Lee figured that kind of thing required permission to be given first).

The day ahead was rather uneventful.

The summit was six weeks away, but in between now and then, Temari was spearheading the campaign for Gaara and Lee to be seen as a united front. As a result, after their first appearance at an event together at the gala, it was time for the next round, in which Gaara would be visiting the individual districts with Lee. Lee was secretly thankful that it was not scheduled for another week.

It gave Gaara time to enjoy Naruto’s company, and to rest (and spend time with Lee, of course).

Later on, Lee would see his genin and Riko-san, but maybe before, if Gaara woke up in time, Lee would take him to the pool. They could swim for the next hour as the sun ascended, and then perhaps Lee would be able to sit next to Gaara and ask for his permission to kiss then. No, not perhaps. He  _ would _ do so. His sensei had taught him to wear his heart on his sleeve and to never run from his emotions, and Lee had not yet failed his sensei. He would be brave and weather the storm of whatever the answer was (but he really hoped Gaara would say yes).

In the meantime, there was nothing to do except continue gazing at Gaara as he slumbered. Lee did not mind. He loved the idea (and Gaara).

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so so SO fucking sorry this chapter took me a fucking year to get out to you. Lots of things happened—I had no idea where Catharsis was going, uni caught up with me, I got into the Voltron fandom (and now I have three drafts of stories for that as well fuck me)—and I didn't want to be *that* author that abandons their work, but ya girl had no motivation or direction and every time I opened up the document for Catharsis I'd have a mind blank and the thing would not write itself. I'm so sorry.
> 
> BUT THANK YOU ANYWAY—for your patience, for your love, for your support (look the list goes on and on). Here's to more regular updates (and longer chapters, fuck).


	22. Finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exactly what the title says

Gaara couldn’t remember the last time he had dreamt, but it was certainly a long enough time ago that this current one felt like drowning. Except he wasn’t drowning, rather he was being bathed in light and he couldn’t move from it. It ate away at his skin and it should have been agonizing, but all he could think of was how freeing it felt.

Lee was already awake when Gaara opened his eyes to the muted grey morning. And gods, what a beautiful sight he was, from his glittering eyes all the way down to the splay of tanned fingers on Gaara’s hipbone.

“Lee,” Gaara said softly, not wanting to break the silence.

“Morning, Gaara,” Lee said, almost shyly, and then he bumped his nose against Gaara’s, and Gaara was suddenly very aware of how close they were.

He neck ached where it was twisted and he turned from his stomach onto his side, wincing a little when he tilted his head and was answered with four cracks. It couldn’t have been any later than six, but Lee did not have residual sleep in his eyes. He must have woken up much earlier.

“You didn’t go for a run?” Gaara asked, happy to note that Lee’s hand had not moved from it’s position.

Despite his joy, it struck him as a little odd for Lee to not have exercised. He was regimental about fitness at the best of times, and a devout morning sprinter. After their first week back in Suna, Gaara had heard many reports of the dust cloud Lee circling the Village in the morning that Lee created.

“No,” Lee said, as if Gaara had asked him if the sky was green. “I wanted to be with you instead.”

Gaara felt his face grow hot. “Oh,” he said, very eloquently.

Lee’s smile was  _ blinding _ . “Would you like to go for a swim, though?”

Gaara groaned at that. “How are you so human this early?”

Lee laughed, and his hand squeezed once. Gaara pressed into the touch, warmed by it.

“I could say the same for you, Night Owl,” he teased. “But was that a yes?”

“I didn’t even say anything,” Gaara mock protested, already resolved to dragging himself out of bed and following Lee to the pool.

As far as he was concerned, Lee could have whatever he liked.

  
  


 

 

It was cold. Devastatingly so. Lee was his usual water baby self and ignored the chill of the room as he stripped and dove in. Gaara was less than enthusiastic, but he too got rid of his clothes and waded in. Experience taught him that the quickest way to warm up was to swim aggressively for a few laps, and so after gritting his teeth up to his waist, he scolded himself for being such a wimp and thrashed around instead.

Lee was laughing when Gaara surfaced on the other side of the pool, already on the ledge. Gaara swam to him, pleased to note his lack of cardio endurance from yesterday was not nearly as evident today, and then he climbed up to shiver next to Lee.

“It’s cold,” he said, wishing his teeth would stop chattering.

Lee was impervious, and he ran a hand through his hair instead. Gaara watched him, and then decided he was totally allowed to do the same and reached out. Lee beamed at him as Gaara’s fingers trailed down his scalp.

“It’s good for you,” Lee retorted playfully.

“Hm,” Gaara said in disagreement, and then he rested his head on Lee’s shoulder. “Did you sleep well, at least?”

“Yes,” Lee nodded, careful to not shift Gaara. “You did too. I didn’t think you slept.”

“I don’t,” Gaara agreed. “I dreamt something but I can’t remember it.”

“Dreams are like that,” Lee said. “They never stay with us.”

“You did though,” Gaara said, tongue thick.

And…gods, it was so cheesy, but it felt  _ right _ . Gaara wanted to tell Lee he would give him the world if he wished it, but his prowess with speeches was only reserved for his Kazekage role, and so those three words were all he had right now.

“Bound in blood,” Lee reminded him gently, and what was this  _ thing  _ they insisted on tiptoeing around? “I’m here for life.”

Gaara tilted his head up to look at Lee. Morning light streamed through the atrium and he was so beautiful, Gaara was absolutely lost. “How do you do that?” he asked. “How are you so at ease with it?”

“Because I love you,” Lee shrugged, as if he was talking about how the sky was blue.

Gaara couldn’t breathe.

“What?”

“I love you,” Lee repeated, ears turning pink. He read Gaara’s silence, and then arrived at the wrong conclusion. “Was that? Is that not okay to say?” And then his eyes widened. “Oh, Gaara, did you not want to hear it?”

Except Gaara couldn’t hear him, because his eyes were scratchy and his throat had a lump in it. “No, no.  _ Gods _ , Lee.”

And then he forwent any kind of stumbling through an explanation for his sudden muteness, and he reached up and kissed Lee instead.

 

 

 

Autumn always made Gaara think of dying. It made sense, because it was the death of seasons, the brief interlude before winter. Suna’s autumns were always much windier than the other months, with a greater occurrence of sand storms and reports of missing ninjas.

There was one gathering on the horizon as he spoke to Naruto on the balcony. He could already tell it was going to be a vicious one, and was thankful the staff had the foresight to begin barricading the household. Behind them, the village was doing the same. It would be the first of the season, and like all firstborns, it would come in screaming.

“Hypothetically,” Naruto said, staring at his glass in boredom.

It hadn’t felt like a tea kind of morning, and so Gaara had brought them thirst-quenching lemonade instead.

“We could get these seals done  _ before  _ the Summit, and then bring it up there instead.”

“Do you think that’s a better idea than waiting the next month?”

“I mean, it makes a lot more sense. That way they can’t blame us for a lack of vigilance. It’ll be like a one-up for us.”

The storm was building higher now, and Gaara could almost taste the energy it would bring. He would probably step outside when it was over the village, and give Shukaku a chance to exercise. It had been a while since they had stood in one and let themselves be taken.

“Gaara.”

Gaara jerked his head to look at his blond friend. “Yeah?”

“You’ve been distracted all day,” Naruto complained. “And that’s coming from  _ me _ .”

“Sorry,” Gaara said automatically.

Naruto looked at him quizzically. “What’s gotten into you? Lee problems?”

Gaara snorted, because it couldn’t be further from the truth. “No, no. Not Lee problems.”

Because they hadn’t been problems, not in the end. When he’d kissed Lee at the pool that morning, Lee had gone as rigid as a corpse. Gaara had frozen in response, petrified that he wasn’t interpreting anything correctly, confusion racing through him as he recounted their time together.

Because they had held hands, shared a bed, swam together, showered  _ naked _ together, and just last night Lee had kissed his face like he was something precious, and Gaara only really had Naruto as a very close friend—his best, even—so he wasn’t exactly an authority figure when it came to relationships, but he knew that friends did not do half of that. Hell, he would never do any of that with Naruto.

So to have Lee stiffen up so noticeably made Gaara feel like he’d broken all the bones in his body. To make things worse, Lee hadn’t done anything when Gaara had drawn back. He’d just stared at Gaara in shock.

“I’m sorry,” Gaara voice had cracked as he apologized immediately, because  _ of course _ , how could he have been so  _ stupid _ , there were different types of love and Lee didn’t love him  _ that  _ way—

Except then Lee’s hand had wrapped tight around Gaara’s wrist. “ _ Gaara _ ,” he had said, sounding as breathless as Gaara felt. “Did you  _ want  _ to hear it?”

And oh, that had to have been why people said love was painful, because in that moment Gaara’s heart had imploded.

“Yes,” he had said, incredibly meek. “Of course I did.”

Lee had laughed, “Oh,” and then had bubbled out, “Gaara, I  _ love  _ you,” and then he’d dragged Gaara back in.

Gaara hadn’t kissed anyone before and it certainly showed. It had been awkward and weird and nothing had felt like it probably was supposed to, until Lee huffed in frustration, held Gaara’s jaw the way he wanted, and slotted their mouths together properly.

Naruto wriggled his eyebrows. “Lee daydreams then?”

Gaara flipped him off instead of answering. “Every time I think you’ve matured, you always remind me how wrong I am.”

Naruto grinned toothily. “I live to please, Gaara.” Then he sobered. “But seriously, what do you think?”

It took Gaara a moment to stop thinking about the feeling of Lee’s hands on his face to remember what he and Naruto had actually been discussing. “I think it has its benefits. We also run the risk of the other Kages thinking we’ve gone behind their backs, though.”

Naruto shrugged. “I think they’ll be more upset that we didn’t tell them before they seal A and Killer B.”

“Fair enough,” Gaara nodded. “You mentioned it wouldn’t have to be as big as our first ceremony.”

“Yeah. I can have Baa-chan do it for us.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if we did it with the other Kages though?” Gaara asked.

“You want to go through that again?” Naruto returned, unimpressed.

Gaara shook his head, because he didn’t, but it also felt official enough to warrant the presence of the other Heads of State. “I could definitely do without Ōnoki.”

“Me too,” Naruto grumbled. “He’s an unfortunate necessity though.” He swirled the melting ice cubes in his glass. “Well, A’s ceremony is scheduled for two weeks away, and we’re already locked in to attend. Why don’t we do it in Kumogakure, beforehand?”

Gaara almost laughed at the idea that they were basically getting married,  _ again _ , except now everything was infinitely different. “Sounds sensible. It’s less of a logistical nightmare, certainly.” He paused, then said, “That’s a lot of ceremonies for one weekend though.”

Naruto shrugged. “They can do two in one for A’s.” He looked at Gaara slyly then. “And you and I can do a joint one, if you want.”

“Like a joint wedding?” Gaara teased, playing along.

“Never,” Naruto mock gasped. “I’m in love with my partner. Yours is simply a marriage of convenience.”

“Yeah,” Gaara coughed, remembering Lee’s mouth moving against his and how he’d grabbed the back of Gaara’s neck to keep him there when Gaara’s shyness had caught up with him. “Convenience.”

Naruto was like a hunter. “ _ Wait _ ,” he said, seizing the opening. “Have you finally consummated your relationship?”

Gaara was fairly sure he went bright red, but he refused to bow to the peer pressure. “Not at all,” he said airily. “Now help me write a missive to the other Kage. We can do it in my office.”

Naruto followed, cackling, “Is that what you say to Lee?”

“Fuck  _ off,  _ Naruto.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your love and well wished on the last chapter; y'all warmed my heart and I figured it was about time y'all got what you deserved (even though I wasn't wholly nice). But, finally.


End file.
